Stealing Heaven
by Freya Ishtar
Summary: (AU) Kagome thinks it a dream come true when she gets an internship on an archeological dig, but finds that her life is in another's hands after her professor, Taisho Sesshomaru, becomes possessed by an entity that considers his prize pupil quite the delicacy. MATURE CONTENT *REPOSTED & COMPLETE!*
1. Accidental Discoveries

**Date of original publication: 9/01/10**

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(The title _Stealing Heaven_ actually comes from an old movie, which I haven't seen, I just spotted the title on the cable guide one night and it stuck; explanations for furnished surnames follows the chapter.)

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**Disclaimer:** I do not own _Inuyasha_ or any affiliated characters.

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**Chapter One**

Accidental Discoveries

"In archeology," the professor began as he strolled to the center of the room carrying a large and ornately painted vase by its neck and holding it up for the students, gathered at desks set in a circle around him, to see, "this is what you're looking for . . . but _this_," he let go, the vase shattering into hundreds of pieces as it impacted the tiled floor, "is what you'll find."

It was in that moment that Higurashi Kagome knew it was going to be her favorite class. She wasn't like the other girls- and even a few of the guys- in the class who hung on every word that tumbled from the lips of their professor, noted archeologist Taisho Sesshomaru, with hearts in their eyes. It was rumored that he had European blood, which was how his eyes got their pale amber coloring . . . it was rumored that he'd suffered some horrifying shock at a young age, turning his long once dark hair silvery-white. Everyone said that rather than aging him, the sharp contrast to his lightly golden-olive skin tone made him appear more youthful. But Kagome didn't concern herself with rumors, or how old- or in this case, young- their professor actually might be.

This course wasn't a choice she'd made after spotting the handsome scholar strolling across campus during an open house, it was a decision she had made long before she'd even been old enough for college. Kagome was there to learn. When she leaned forward in her seat, it was to better hear what this brilliant person was saying, her vibrant blue eyes were never on him- and they most certainly had no hearts in them- but on her notebook as she scribbled down everything he said. That first day, her gaze had leaped from him to that shattered vase instantly, her mind already picking apart the rubble to fit the pieces back together like a jigsaw puzzle.

A semester and a half had passed and this was the day Kagome had been waiting for . . . so impatiently that she couldn't help glancing at her watch every few seconds. Class would be let out any second and still there had been no mention. As she checked for the umpteenth time she felt a nudge in her side. Looking from the elbow pulling away from her ribs to the person attached to it, she met the calm brown eyes of her dorm-mate, Ryoushi Sango.

"Will you chill?" the girl hissed in a barely audible whisper.

Frowning deeply, Kagome nodded as she squared her shoulders and sat back only to be hunched over her watch again in less than a minute's passing. Sango held in a sigh- Kagome's fidgeting was starting to give her a headache.

"Before I dismiss you," Professor Taisho said and instantly Kagome bolted upright in her seat, folding her hands in front of her on the desk and assuming the picture of the perfect, attentive student, "I would like to talk for a moment about the internships. When you leave, you will find the list of those who've been accepted posted outside the door. I will not hear any arguments if you find that you didn't make the list. All applications were received and weighed against academic performance, legitimacy of your request based on said performance- that's to say how serious I think you are about pursuing a career in this field- and your essay answers on why you want to participate Now, while 'seeing a Central American sunrise' is quite poetic," he paused, straight-faced despite the murmur of laughter that rumbled through the class, "it is not exactly the reasoning I'm looking for.

"That being said, I would like to apologize to anyone that _should_ be on that list, but is not- I trust you will know who you are. Funding being what it is, there are only a few seats available and I did have some tough choices to make once it was down to those students that truly deserve to take part. If you are among those, I am sorry- there's always next term's excavation."

A moment later the class was dismissed and everyone was out of their seats to bolt for the door and- in some cases- the list hanging outside of it. Much to Sango's surprise, Kagome wasn't among them. Shouldering her messenger bag and rising from her desk, Sango turned a tight-lipped look on her friend. Kagome was placing her things into her worn yellow backpack at a snail's pace.

"Okay, what gives? You were a basket case all morning waiting to find out and now that you can have the answer you're practically a statue."

One corner of Kagome's mouth twitched a little as she zipped her bag shut and pulled it up onto her shoulder, but still didn't stand, her eyes in her lap. "I just . . . what if I didn't make it?"

A long, unattractive groan forced its way out of Sango's throat as her head fell back and she dropped herself down into her seat. "Oh my God, that is the stupidest thing ever. You're like the best student in this class. I can maybe understand it if my name's not there, but there's no way _you_ are not on that list."

Nervously pushing a wave of long, jet-black hair behind one ear, Kagome spoke with her gaze still averted. "But you heard him- there's no guarantee as to who made the cut."

"If he's as smart as he seems to be-"

"He is," Kagome grumbled.

Sango frowned, but nodded. "_If_ he is, then he'd ground his own assistant to make room for a student like you. Now, get your ass up and let's go have a look, okay?"

A long, silent moment crawled by before Kagome gave into a nod and allowed her friend to pull her up, away from her desk and out the door. When they were at last in the hall Sango turned Kagome to face the list only to find the stubborn girl's eyes squeezed shut. Repressing the urge to utter another ugly groan Sango flicked Kagome's ear.

Blue eyes snapped open as Kagome let out a gasp, clamping a hand over her ear. "Sango, what the . . ." Sango's finger was already on the list, a metallic-purple nail pointing and Kagome couldn't help following it.

Instantly her hand dropped as she stared, her gaze wandering back and forth across the letters a few times before shrieking excitedly and throwing her arms around her friend's neck.

"Didn't I tell you?" Sango scolded after letting Kagome strangle her for a few minutes. "Guess what?"

Kagome pulled back, her eyes so wide that they looked as though they were about to fall out of her skull. "What?"

Sango pointed to the list again, breaking her usual calm expression to give a bright grin. "I'm going, too!"

There was another round of excited-girl screeches- earning them scowls from passing students- but they managed to collect themselves and focus their attention on the list once more. On the bottom was bright red scrawl, stating that they would receive confirmation letters via email which would outline suggested travel supplies, necessary vaccinations and any other possible arrangements they might have to make within the six weeks leading up to the summer-long excursion. Kagome glanced back up at the other names- she'd heard them both in passing, but it was no one she recognized right off the bat.

"Oh, no," she said softly.

"Hmm?" Sango was already linking her arm through Kagome's and steering them in the direction of the dormitories.

"Kikyou didn't make the cut," she replied, blue eyes lowering a little guiltily.

One look at Kagome's face had Sango shaking her head. "Uh-uh, no- don't do that! You feel bad 'cause you're going and she's not? That's fine, but don't go feeling like it's your fault, okay?"

Kagome and Nisou Kikyou- both of their grandfathers serving as priests at the same shrine- had been practically glued at the hip all through grade school and junior high. The friendship ended bitterly during high school when they'd fallen for the same boy. Even after he'd been sent away to live with his mother in America they had never quite been able to forgive each other- or themselves- though things had mellowed a little, allowing them to settle into a slightly more comfortable, yet often no less tense, academic rivalry. Kagome always secretly hoped that one day things would be able go back to how they'd once been, but an opportunity to make that hope a reality simply never seemed to present itself.

She was quiet and miserable for a solid minute before nodding. She might not be responsible in any _actual_ way, but she still felt like if her own name wasn't on that list, there would have been room for Kikyou. "There's always next term," the hollow echo of their professor's words was all she could muster right then.

Sango let it slide- she knew that once this feeling passed, once Kagome started packing and making her medical appointments, she'd again be excited about the adventure that lay ahead of them. "Exactly. Well, unless you bump her off that list, too."

Kagome laughed in spite of herself. "You can be so mean."

"I do it out of love."

"Uh-huh."

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From the moment they arrived at the site, Kagome knew there was something odd about the area. It was nothing tangible, nothing that she could put her finger on, but she could feel it in her bones all the same. She'd seen a location close to here on a television program, but she already knew that had nothing to do with the strange sense in the back of her mind.

The camp was set in one of only a handful of clearings scattered throughout this section of the rain forest. There were interns from other universities, but not nearly as many as Kagome had expected, which- as it was explained by Professor Taisho in a bored and calm tone that hadn't even required him to lift his nose from the notes he was skimming- was because many of the students wanted to wait for more prominent digs, or for a location like Egypt.

Aside from the students- whom Kagome already knew were to handle all the support work from recording their progress, to cleaning and cataloging artifacts, and even really miniscule tasks like making coffee- there was a native guide, a translator, a smattering of archeologists and anthropologists and a few assistants that probably all had PhDs of their own, if she was guessing correctly. It was a surprisingly smaller set up than what she was expecting, they numbered perhaps eighteen in all, but even the shortage of people left no room for modesty. Only two stations of portable utilities had been provided and it wasn't likely they would be designated as gender specific- since Kagome and Sango seemed to be outnumbered- but rather used on an as-needed basis. The bigger downside however, was that once a week they were expected to pile into a beat up pick-up truck and endure a few hours long ride over bumpy terrain to reach something that resembled civilization to restock supplies and have a sit-down meeting- to discuss the dig itself and what they felt they were learning- in a local school that was kind enough to donate the use of a room to the expedition.

Kagome and Sango felt they were at least lucky in that they were assigned three people to a tent and their third person was a girl from France whom they couldn't easily communicate with, but seemed very sweet. After unpacking and familiarizing themselves with the camp site they reported to Professor Taisho; due to a departure delay they had been the last group to arrive and though this only put them a few hours behind, the professor was still eager to catch them up.

With no preamble whatsoever, the moment all of his students- and his assistant, Souryo Miroku- were gathered before him, the man stuffed the notepad he'd been reading from into a pocket and turned on his heel to stride off into the wilderness. It wasn't until they were out of earshot of the camp that Professor Taisho began explaining the historical significance of the area. Every effort had been made to disturb as little of their surroundings as possible- only the thinnest of paths had been carved out and only where it had been absolutely necessary, marked by colored arrows adhered harmlessly to the trees.

Kagome had never seen anything so vibrant or colorful in all her life. It seemed like walking through a waking dream. And the sounds! So many noises on so many levels all the time- everything from the buzzing of insects to the chirping of birds and the rustle of herself and her group moving through the jungle, even the professor's words added to the cacophony despite the fact that she couldn't make sense of them just now. She imagined that if they halted completely and listened hard enough, she might even hear the distant breathing of curious animals watching them.

That thought should be a little more nerve-wracking, she realized somewhat dimly. No doubt that some of those watchful beasts would be predators, but she simply couldn't feel nerve-wracked. There was that feeling that was with her . . . sitting in her bones and edging around her brain. This place was somehow a comfort to her, she couldn't begin to think on why, though.

A sudden clicking near her ear broke her reverie and she looked over to see Sango snapping pictures of the barely-visible trail. Miroku was nearly stumbling in his endeavor to keep up with Professor Taisho's long-legged gait, dutifully capturing what his boss was saying on a hand-held recorder. The other two students- a vertically-challenged boy named Tabakaru Shippo and a feisty girl named Garou Ayame- were scribbling away in notepads as they trudged on, likely jotting down their impressions of the location and Kagome almost felt useless for a moment, but then her sketch pad, pencils and charcoals were in her pack and she wouldn't really have any use for them until they reached the . . . whatever it was. Professor Taisho still hadn't told them exactly what they'd be working on, only that it was recently discovered and a shame that a larger team couldn't be amassed to assist in the excavation.

"What was stopping it?" Kagome muttered thoughtfully, her gaze locked on a colorful bird nested on a branch high above them. The group's movement ceased suddenly and Kagome hadn't even realized until she almost tripped over Shippo.

She looked ahead to find that Professor Taisho had stopped and was looking at her from over his shoulder. Instantly forgetting what she'd been thinking, all Kagome could manage was, "Hmm?"

"Do you have a question, Higurashi?"

Kagome refrained from forcing a gulp down her throat- she abhorred being put on the spot, but she knew that all eyes were on her now, it was either remember what had been going through her head or let herself feel like a fool for interrupting over nothing. "Um . . ." her mind ran through what he'd said in a split-second, "I'm sorry, I was just wondering what was barring the site we're working on from discovery until now?"

Professor Taisho's head tipped to one side thoughtfully before he turned to face them, a corner of his mouth quirking ever so slightly as he folded his arms across his chest. "Well, that is a fair question, but I will remind you that pyramids, temple mounds and tribal burial sites are still being uncovered in places where it was previously thought there was nothing. Why should this site be any different?"

For the first time she found herself grateful for nights when there was nothing to watch on TV but documentaries. "I remember seeing something a few years ago about the Halls of Lost Records."

Silver eyebrows shot up and there was some definite snickering from the group, but Kagome forced herself to continue. "Okay, I know that wasn't the best lead-in, but hear me out. I'm pretty close to positive that an area not at all far from where we are now was one of the proposed sites of the Hall due to some unnatural rock formations that were thought to possibly be land markers. There was an _actual, _legitimate expedition and they combed the jungle looking for . . . well, anything." She shrugged, "Therefore, whether or not it pertained to their search, I can't help but wonder how they'd have missed something that was of any archeological significance."

Those brows remained raised as the professor nodded and turned back, starting off again as he called over his shoulder, "Nice bit of accidental research, there. The reason it wasn't found was because the cavern we're going to was submerged until recently. Ground shifts in the aftermath of some of our planets recent earthquakes caused water levels in some areas to recede. What you'll find interesting is that- if testing that's going to be conducted proves me correct- its possible the Mezzo-American tribe that was here used that cavern _because_ it was submerged, or at least a portion of it."

"So they put something were they couldn't even reach it?" Ayame asked in a mixture of uncertainty and disbelief.

"Not that they _couldn't_ reach it," Professor Taisho explained smoothly as the students began to make out a mountainside, its face obscured by plant life that had grown to conceal it long ago. "I believe it was simply to make reaching it more difficult as opposed to an intended impossibility."

"Like a rite of passage, maybe?" Shippo chimed in.

"Precisely."

Shippo beamed while Ayame scowled.

They followed the professor as the path curved left until they were turned in almost a complete circle to face a cavern that could not be missed as becoming a hole in the ground after venturing the first few yards in. It was foreboding and that upset Kagome, given how tranquil the rest of the jungle had felt to her. Everyone was retrieving their lanterns from their packs and she absently scrambled to do the same.

"Can I ask a philosophical question?" she inquired, dropping her voice a little as they proceeded into the damp-reeking darkness.

"I don't see why not."

"Do you think that-"

"Me as in doctor of archeology or me as in whoever I am outside of my PhDs?"

Confused a little by the question, Kagome glanced at Sango in the sparsely illuminated cavern who could only shrug and make a_well, go on_ gesture. "I guess both. If humanity's ancestors could be witness to an archeological excavation, do you think they'd feel honored that we're preserving their memories or horrified no matter what our intentions and think we're no better than grave robbers?"

The professor paused again, but only briefly, aware that the question also had the girl's classmates and his own assistant thinking about how they would answer. "I believe . . . they'd be disappointed that we'd ever forgotten them at all."

There was something humbling about that thought. There was no more speaking from anyone as they continued down through a winding tunnel that became increasing dank, the sea-salt in the air thicker and the distant, impossible-seeming sound of waves lapping met their ears. Eventually it widened out again and after a few yards the group found an enormous cavern opening before them. The professor stayed at the entrance with the students as Miroku moved on ahead. A few moments of edgy silence passed and then the depths of the cavern became lighter as Miroku flicked on standing lanterns.

"This is what we'll be working on," Professor Taisho said in a quiet, almost awed tone, "and, along with the rest of the team back at camp, we're some of the first people to set foot here in _centuries_."

They faced a massive temple sitting alone on an underground shore, pitch-black waters lightly touching damp sand and rolling back again. Numbly Kagome switched off her hand-held lantern and pulled down her pack to get her sketching tools. She pushed aside how she was feeling . . . like if she looked away for too long, if she turned her back on it, something was going to come rushing out of that ancient structure and snatch her away.

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It was a few days later- countless sketches had been made, items had been retrieved and cataloged, remote recording devices had been set up inside both the cavern and what parts of the temple had already been surveyed and tedious translations of the text lining the interior walls had begun- when Kagome brought to Professor Taisho the final draft of the temple exterior's rendering. He nodded slowly, almost making her cringe as he turned the page this way and that before handing it back to her. "Perfect."

She nodded in response, turning on her heel- it was her time to take over cataloging duties from Ayame- when he called for her attention. "Yes, professor?" she asked politely, turning back with a mystified lift of her eyebrows.

"Are you feeling alright?"

Her gaze darted around curiously for a moment. "Yes, I'm okay. Why?"

The professor frowned- she seemed fine now, yes, but since arriving here she'd simply not been the same girl who'd been sitting in his class room all term. "You've been giving off an air of . . . listlessness."

Kagome's shoulders slumped- he'd noticed she was distracted? It must have been more obvious than she'd thought, though Sango hadn't mentioned it- but then she was distracted, herself, with Miroku's flirting. "No, I'm sorry, I've just been a little . . . I'll be more . . ." she didn't even know how to finish the sentence, because she couldn't say for certain _how_ she'd been.

His frown deepened and he took a stack of notes from the folding chair near his and set them on the table. "Please have a seat."

Nodding stiffly, she rolled up the sketch and sat down, lightly clutching the page in her hands. She didn't like making a nuisance of herself. The professor should be pouring over artifacts and photographs, not taking his time to deal with her.

"If there's anything at this site that is making you uncomfortable somehow, I would like for you to tell me."

"Huh?" Her brow furrowed- did he think she was being bullied or harassed by someone? "No, no," she let out a small, tension-releasing laugh as she shook her head, "it's nothing like that I just . . . I don't know how to say it, except that I almost feel like . . . this place is familiar."

"You feel as though you've been here before?"

She shook her head again. "I know it sounds ridiculous, but . . . ."

"Why?" Professor Taisho asked with a slight shrug.

Again Kagome was confused. "You . . . believe in past lives, professor?"

He pursed his lips for a long, thoughtful moment before replying. "I don't necessarily know that I believe in reincarnation in such strict terms. What I think is that," he lightly tapped the tips of his fingers against his chest, "_this _is a machine. And like any machine it takes energy to operate. Energy doesn't 'die', it only changes forms. When we die, what happens to that energy? Without _actually_having the answer to that question, we can't_actually_ rule anything out. I don't know that it means a person can live more than one life, but what it does mean is that its possible you may have been here before just . . . in a different form."

She nodded slowly, unable to find her voice at first. "I'll keep that in mind and again I'll try to be less distracted. I should go, Ayame's shift is up."

He halted her again as she rose from the chair. "This jungle feels safe to you, then?"

Kagome couldn't help smiling a little as she glanced around at the trees. "Actually yes."

"But not the cavern?"

"What?"

He was back to frowning. "When you're in there you look as though you're expecting something to jump out at you."

"Oh," she lowered her eyes. He noticed a lot of stuff, didn't he? "No, it doesn't feel safe to me." If she didn't know any better, she could have sworn this made him curious.

"What does it feel like, then?"

She didn't want to say that it felt like they weren't supposed to be there, or like the temple wasn't supposed to have been found. That was defeatist to everything their field was about. "It feels like . . ." she shrugged, finally settling on an explanation, but unsure if it sounded any better, "like something's _hiding_ in there."

The professor's brow furrowed and then another long moment stretched out before he seemed to realize he was keeping her. "I'm sorry, you can go."

Kagome crossed the camp site to where Ayame waited, pacing and checking her watch. She tried to shake the feeling that, for whatever reason, Professor Taisho was actually taking her impressions into consideration. On an entirely different level, but no less jarring to her, was that for a moment- when he'd been explaining his view on previous incarnations- she thought there might've been hearts in her eyes.

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(**_Ryoushi_****- Hunter** [there was no exact translation for 'slayer']; **_Nisou_****- Priestess** [_miko_ is translated as 'sorceress' and 'shrine maiden']; **_Souryo_****- Monk **[since _houshi,_ as Miroku is called in the manga, actually tr_a_nslates rather specifically to Buddhist Priest];**_Tabakaru- _****Trickster** ['cause_ kitsune _would've just been too easy]; **_Garou-_**** Hungry Wolf **[I wanted Ayame's name to differ from_Ookami_, which means 'wolf', as that is Kouga's name])


	2. Fractured Shadows

**Chapter Two**

Fractured Shadows

She'd been having trouble sleeping. It wasn't a constant, every-moment-of-the-night sort of thing, simply that every so often whatever dream she was having got interrupted. Kagome would find herself again on the shore in that first moment she laid eyes on the temple . . . once more reliving that same, dreadful feeling. She knew it was simply that she hadn't fully acclimated herself to this completely foreign environment, but knowing the cause didn't banish the sensation as she wished it would.

These near night terrors were an odd contrast to the fact that in reality she was finding it easier to work in the cavern. Still she felt that something was . . . _lurking_, but it was a sensation that she was able to push aside with less and less difficulty.

Two weeks had gone by and she was beginning to wonder if perhaps ignoring that feeling had become simpler because of how hard she was working to ignore something else entirely. The something else in question being that a little corner of her brain was batting around the idea that Professor Taisho Sesshomaru could ever be anything more to her than a mentor.

When he hunched over an artifact to point out to her the representation of an astrological symbol, explaining the significance of where it was positioned within the etching and his shoulder was leaned against hers for a moment . . . she knew it didn't register on him in the slightest. The times that his fingertips brushed hers as they were checking over her sketches for inaccuracies . . . didn't mean anything to him. Things like that were no more than accidents of being in close proximity. Even when she'd been nearly bounced right out of the pickup truck- which they learned too late had no working seat belts- by a particularly rocky path and he'd put his arm around her to keep her firmly anchored inside of the vehicle, it had only been that- a perfectly innocent safety measure.

Kagome shook her head, smoothing her dark hair back and chugging down a little more of the gods awful thing that passed for coffee there before returning her attention to the pieces she was cataloging. She simply refused to become like those ridiculous girls in her class- she would be realistic, she wouldn't act any differently towards him . . . she would give no indication whatsoever that she might be developing a crush on him.

_Might?_ a mocking little voice asked in the back of her head. _You went from completely platonic respect to wondering if he's a good kisser after one deep conversation._

Throwing her pencil down on the table she sat back, frowning at her own thoughts as she scrunched up her face and raised a hand to tiredly pinch between her brows. It wasn't like that. Kagome knew she wasn't _actually_ thinking like that, it was only that she kept worrying she might _become_ like that- that she might start thinking that way if she didn't stay grounded by poking fun at herself with such melodrama.

Letting out a heavy sigh she glanced at her watch. Ten-thirty . . . almost everyone else had already called it a night. They tried to work with natural daylight as much as possible which meant very early mornings, but she thought that perhaps if she really and truly wore herself down than she might fall into a deep, dreamless slumber.

"Hey."

Kagome gave a start, glancing over her shoulder to see Sango at the tent's opening. "Why are you still up?"

Shrugging lightly, Sango strolled over and leaned a hand on the table, casting a cursory glance over the catalog page. "I could ask you the same thing. Face it, girl- you've got all the makings of a proper workaholic."

Kagome laughed a little at that. "You just answered your own question then, huh? But that still doesn't explain why _you're_ up."

Sango shifted her weight, resting a hip against the table and folded her arms under her breasts. That posture alone had Kagome thinking that somehow within the next five minutes she'd be asking herself _Why me? _"Well, see, Professor Taisho wanted me to go over some of the recordings from the temple interior 'cause there's some anomalous images and I said I would get through it tonight but . . . ."

"Oh," Kagome slapped a hand to her head and let it drag down her face slowly. "You're seeing Miroku again, aren't you?"

"If I can get someone to _volunteer_ to take over the footage review for me . . . ."

A small ache was beginning to form behind Kagome's forehead and she let her eyes drift closed for a moment before allowing compassion for her friend win out over her irritation at being thought of as having nothing better to do- the thought might be correct, but it was still irritating. "What is this? The third time since last week?"

"Something like that," Sango said with another small shrug as her eyes rolled upward.

"You are aware he flirts with a _lot_ of girls, right?"

Sango frowned, quirking a brow as she brought her gaze back to Kagome's. "Yeah, but so what? It's _just_ flirting."

Kagome stared back blankly- she hadn't made the comment to wound Sango, she was just perfectly aware of how territorial the girl could be.

"Okay, fine- I'm not _that_ okay with his flirting, but I _do_ know the difference between just flirting and actually _doing something _and . . . I think I'm starting to really like him. Please do this for me?"

There was a long moment of quiet as Kagome's eyes darted around. She could always get back to her cataloging in the morning- unlike Sango, she'd not been crazy enough to give an estimate on how much work she'd get done in a set amount of time. She might get to sleep even later than she'd already planned, but at least she wouldn't have Sango staring daggers at her for the next few days for saying no.

"How much footage do I have to go over?"

Instantly Sango was dragging Kagome up from her chair and out of the tent by her wrist. "Oh, thank you! Okay, I'll explain what you're looking for and how to note it, then I'm out."

Kagome nodded tiredly, remembering dimly that she'd left her coffee behind. It was just as well, really, since she suspected that it was more the acrid taste than any dosing of caffeine that jolted exhaustion away. She allowed Sango to hustle her into the AV tent and push her gently into a folding chair. Already set on the table before the chair was a log book and a pencil. The television screen in front of her showed a freeze frame of Professor Taisho in the midst of discussing something with the anthropology professor from the French university . . . what was his name? _Devereux, maybe?_

"Here we go- so you have an idea of the sort of things we've been picking up . . ." Sango picked up the remote and rewound the footage by just a few frames before hitting play and pointing to the screen. "Okay, here Professor Taisho's talking to Professor Dubios . . . ."

_That's it, Dubios, _Kagome thought, leaning forward just a bit in the chair and picking up the pencil.

"Now, I cut the sound from this to make it easier to focus on the visual- and 'cause the audio seems to be clean of any anomalies- but like . . . here."

As Kagome watched, Professor Taisho took a few steps across the floor and his shadow . . . didn't sync. She leaned a little closer, felt her spine pull a little straighter. It moved with him as shadows should but . . . there was a definite hiccup, as though it waited a moment before moving to catch up to where it _should_ be. She thought she could feel the fine hairs of the back of her neck threatening to stand on end.

"Play that again."

Sango did as requested and for a moment the two girls simply watched the fractured motion across the screen in silence before pausing it once more. "Okay, so you'll see that I already recorded this in the log. It's date, time, frame number- which you can catch more easily if you freeze it the second you see something- and a brief description of what the anomaly was. Like there, I put 'Taisho- shadow stutters'."

Kagome spoke without taking her eyes from the frozen image. "I know it's probably just a glitch with the recording speed or something uneven in the background surface, but it's still kind of . . . ."

"Creepy?"

Kagome nodded.

Sango nodded back as she set the remote on the table beside the log book. "Yeah, it really kind of is, but I think of it like this- is it_really_ any creepier than the fact that we're being trained for careers in a field that centers around playing with dead people and-slash-or the belongings, graves and homes of said departed folk?"

This caused Kagome to rub her lightly aching forehead for just a few seconds. "I guess not . . . I'm just not sure which thing you put into perspective just now- that the footage _isn't_ that creepy or that archeology kind of _is_."

A thoughtful frown graced Sango's lips. "Hmm, that actually hadn't occurred to me."

"Am I looking for anything specifically?" Kagome asked as she picked up the remote.

"I can't say just yet," Sango replied with another small shrug, "but the logs will help pinpoint commonalities, like lighting defects or- like you said- uneven surfaces . . . anything that could be reflecting the light in a way that would cause optical illusions that we're unaware of so that we can plan around them for the rest of the tapings."

"How much of this do I have to go through?"

"Most of it's already been reviewed, so I'd say _maybe_ two hours more? See, the anomalies seem to only be in _that_ chamber, and since we've only had access to that area for a few days now which, given how small our research team really is in respect to the size of the site . . . ."

"It really only translates to several hours at most."

"Exactly."

"So wait . . . is there anything recording in there, now?"

Brow furrowing, Sango spun on her heel and started toward the tent opening. "Nope, which is why I said I'd do all the logging tonight, and the professor's gonna have to reenact anything he comes across in the meanwhile."

The recordings were to be shown to his and the other professors' classes, and- pending the weight and depth of their findings- turned into documentaries for far-reaching educational stations like The History Channel. Given the fact that they were dealing with a subterranean temple, it probably wasn't insane to think that this was definitely going to hit international air waves.

"Doesn't he hate reenacting?" Kagome was pretty sure he'd said exactly that during one, if not more, of his lectures.

Sango looked over her shoulder at Kagome and gave a slow, painful-seeming nod. "Apparently hate is too affectionate of a term. When I told him what was happening with the footage and he realized it would have to mean a camera being down while it was figured out . . . man, if looks could kill that camera probably would have melted into a puddle right on the spot."

"Yikes." Kagome would've thought Professor Taisho didn't know how to get angry- he was always so calm and centered.

"I'm just glad he wasn't looking at a living thing like that, would've charred the flesh right off 'em."

"Why not just swap in another camera in the meantime?" She already knew that the most obvious answer- to just move the bloody camera- wasn't an option as it had already been set in the only angle from which the entire chamber could be kept in the frame.

"I suggested that, but he said since it was just one night if it's an effect of the area as opposed to a problem with the equipment- and since he's the only one out there this late tonight- it would just be a waste of time."

"You'd figure he wouldn't mind a few minutes if it meant he wouldn't have to do something he hates."

Sango smirked. "Yeah, but he's a man- not a damned one of 'em makes sense. Alright, I'm out. Night Kags, and thanks again, I mean it."

Nodding, Kagome waved her off and turned back to the recording. "How many times do I have to ask her not to call me that?" she grumbled under her breath.

Against her own better judgment she hit rewind. She didn't know quite why, but she had to see that again. Perhaps it was to prepare herself for other such anomalies so that she wouldn't be startled by possibly odder tricks of the light that might still lay ahead. She hit play, almost unaware that she was once more leaning forward in the seat.

Professor Taisho turned towards Professor Dubios, speaking as he gestured toward something on a far wall. He took a step . . . two steps . . . three . . . and that was when the shadow jetted forward, falling perfectly into place behind the professor to mimic his movements precisely as a proper shadow should.

Kagome frowned deeply. Perhaps the wall behind him dipped? A shallow alcove, not quite deep enough for the camera to pick up any difference in lighting? Even thinking logically about it . . . the imagery was still creepy. Repressing a shudder, she let it play through. Approximately ten minutes passed before she was hitting the pause button again, diligently ignoring that her heart had just dropped into her stomach. She rewound it a few frames and then let it play forward in slow motion.

Professor Taisho was again assuming the lead in the muted conversation, he was crossing the floor of the chamber again . . . and as he turned his head to look at Dubios over his shoulder . . . his eyes had gone black. Forcing a small gulp down her throat, Kagome couldn't stop herself as she rose out of the chair and leaned forward across the table. It wasn't just his eyes themselves, but the entire area around them, from just beneath his brows the top of his cheek bones. She carefully scanned the entire rest of the screen. Nothing else was effected and it was only a _single_ frame of the footage- if she'd blinked she would have missed it entirely.

Sitting back down- albeit a tad shakily- she dutifully jotted down the date, time and frame number in the log book, followed by_Taisho- black eyes (nothing else effected)_. She set the pencil down and as she was about to pick up the remote again, her gaze skimmed upward over the previous log entries. For a long moment she paused, but then shook her head and went back to her viewing. They might only be lighting defects, nevertheless those split-seconds of marred shading were utterly unnerving.

This time is was nearly twice as long before she froze the image. This one was less clear, but possibly still of note. Professor Taisho was again gesturing toward something, but this time he was standing still, his hands raised and for just a moment, again just a single frame, his fingers appeared . . . clawed? She narrowed her eyes, trying to focus a little better. When that didn't do much, she got up and ran back to the catalog table, returning in seconds- and completely winded- with a magnifying glass in hand. Examining the enlarged image, she felt she had no choice but to record this, too. Though this one- _Taisho- fingers appear clawed-_felt a little ridiculous, but it _was_ what it looked like.

Something a little bizarre occured to her as the footage began to play forward again. She paused the recording and tapped the pencil against her lips as she thought about it- she'd seen three of these lighting anomalies and Dubios never seemed effected. Perhaps it was because he was closer to the camera, while Professor Taisho lingered near the walls, practically skirting the shadows? But she'd thus far only seen Professor Taisho's name on the logs.

She turned her head minutely, blue eyes locking on the book that lay in front of her for a long moment before she stuck the pencil behind her ear and picked up the book. Running a finger up the page, she followed the brief descriptions all the way to the top and then flipped the page back, starting from the top and working her way down. So few hours for so many entries and somehow . . ._Taisho, Taisho, Taisho, Taisho . . . ._ She wasn't imagining it- it _was_ only her professor that these anomalies happened around.

It was almost against her will that she started reading the descriptions. _Eye_s _glow_ . . . _Shadow faces opposite direction_ . . ._Features unnaturally gaunt . . . Appears to have aura. _There was even one that explained that his ears had looked inhumanly elongated . . . .Kagome frowned, shaking her head_, Weird . . . _and still creepy, but at least now her _clawed fingers_ notation didn't feel quite so ridiculous. Of course, it was even weirder that it never effected anything else- or anyone else- in the frame.

But it always seemed to happen in the same place- or at least that appeared to be the case from the ones she'd viewed. Nodding to herself, she picked up the remote again and hit play. Several uneventful minutes passed when a voice made Kagome nearly jump out of her skin.

"Hey . . . oh, I'm sorry, didn't mean to scare you." At the entrance of the tent stood one of their PhDs . . . she couldn't remember_who_ he actually was at the moment- which was probably a testament to how badly she needed some real coffee or some real sleep, whichever blessed her first. "You're one of Taisho's interns, right? Um . . . Ms. Higurashi?"

Her smile was small and perhaps a tad uneasy as she nodded. "Yeah, can I help you."

"Actually yes," he stepped inside, immediately pulling weighty-looking book from a leather pack on his hip and holding it out to her; his hand trembled ever so slightly and the bags under his eyes had bags of their own. "I'm going to turn in for the night, been up for two days straight translating. I was hoping you could just make sure Professor Taisho gets this tonight."

She couldn't help flipping through some pages and lightly skimming them- this guy must really think Professor Taisho trusted his interns implicitly, because he didn't bat an eye at her scrutiny. "Was the text that hard to decipher?"

The man shrugged. "Yes and no. It's not the language itself that was difficult, it's just that _this_ was a very short-lived dialect and it was written in . . . let's see, what's the best way to put it?" He seemed to take a moment to think it over and then nodded to himself. "It was almost Shakespearean . . . well, comparatively speaking. So I had to first translate the text itself and then actually figure out what it was talking about."

She started to set the book down, but he frowned, his brow furrowing. "He wanted to know the minute I was done."

Now she was really beginning to feel put-upon. "Then why didn't you get him on your walkie?"

"He's at the site, by the time he gets here, I'll have passed out on the ground from exhaustion. Not the greatest impression to make on a colleague, especially one with his standing."

"Ah, okay, then." She was still irked, but she would probably feel the same way in his shoes- her professor might seem calm and collected all the time, but in the same turn he definitely gave off an air that made those around him not want to disappoint him and it had precious little to do with his standing in the academic community.

"Thank you. Good nigh . . . hey, is that you?"

"Hmm?" Kagome turned to follow his gaze, finding that he was watching the screen.

Sure enough, she saw herself enter the frame. She'd almost completely forgotten that she'd ventured to the site earlier that day to have Professor Taisho sign off on a cataloging error that had been corrected. That earthen-clay doll had actually been in two hundred forty seven pieces, not two hundred forty eight.

Kagome watched numbly as the professor had taken the catalog from her hands and turned away to signature it and- for a second- the fingers of her shadow appeared to reach forward . . . to brush his shadow for just the briefest moment. Her own fingers felt almost cold as she reached down, on a strange sort of auto-pilot she picked up the remote, rewound the recording a few frames and hit play, freezing it again when the anomaly occurred. Barely aware of what she was doing, she leaned forward and jotted in the log book, _Higurashi- shadow extends beyond subject's movement._ When she looked back up at the screen, she realized . . . it was in the same spot that all of the professor's anomalous images had taken place.

"Is that a trick of the light?"

She looked over her shoulder to see the linguist still hovering. "Huh?"

"Well, your shadow stretches out, but it's barely even a second . . . maybe there's a shallow dip in the wall behind you?"

It was comforting to have a person unfamiliar with the issue offer the same logical conclusion as she had. Instantly even the images that had seemed not so easily dismissed were put into perspective, Dubios didn't react at all to any recorded anomalies, so it wasn't something he'd seen even though he was looking directly at Professor Taisho in nearly every instance. Kagome's mind began to piece it together now- since all of the unusual images occurred over exactly the same stretch of background surface and because visual recording equipment was capable of registering a greater range of visible light than the human eye . . . .

Well, okay, AV technical problems were hardly her strong suit, but she understood suddenly that the answer had to be something to do with the way the camera was picking up the lighting against _that_ wall in combination with how the human mind was designed to make patterns out of images or sounds that lacked a sense of order. So it wasn't necessarily _just_ the light, but how the mind of the watcher was interpreting images that simply didn't make sense. This whole mess could probably be corrected by a measure as small as repositioning the lanterns.

She let out a long sigh, feeling warmth flood back into her fingers. "That's what we're trying to figure out, actually. I'm sorry to have kept you. Good night."

"Good night." And like that he was gone and Kagome was alone again.

She sat for a long, silent while, staring at the book that had been dropped off. It had seemed like that poor man had worked himself to exhaustion- she certainly hoped Professor Taisho knew what he was doing. It was almost half-heartedly that she picked up her walkie, fishing a list of channel frequencies from a pocket of her drab-green cargo pants. Each group changed their dialing frequency based on their current location to prevent interference or miscommunication.

She dialed the site frequency- thinking it would be a miracle if she got through, since the professor was in a structure underground- and hit the call button. A loud, static-laced whine filled the air and Kagome dropped the walkie immediately, clamping her hands over her ears until the ringing in them ceased. Angrily pushing up from her chair she scooped her walkie up from the ground and set it on the table- barely refraining from slamming it down.

Her foot tapped impatiently as she thought over what to do. She could just keep working until the professor returned from the site . . . but who knew how long that would be and she might be passed out at a work table by then and miss him entirely- she didn't want to be the one he held responsible for receiving a potentially important translation _hours_ after it had been completed instead of minutes. She could wait at the entrance to the camp so she wouldn't miss him . . . again for who knew how long, and with the consequence of making herself feel just a wee bit stalker-ish. Sighing heavily, she buried her face in her hands for a long moment- she had no other choice, she'd have to go to the site and hand it to Professor Taisho directly.

It had taken a bit longer than she'd predicted, but at last she thought to herself, _Why me?_


	3. Moments of Revelation

**Chapter Three**

Moments of Revelation

Untying the tan button-down shirt from around her waist, she pulled it on over the thin ribbed tank-top she was wearing and snatched up the book. Just an hour ago she'd wanted to avoid sleep for a long as she could, now all she wanted to do was climb into her cot, yank her sleeping bag closed over her head and tell everyone to go away. She almost didn't want to take that damned treacherous walkie with her, but she grudgingly picked it up and clipped it on her belt, knowing that it had most likely just been some sort of interference. Despite all of the more environment-focused safety measures that were in place, she knew Sango would never forgive her if she ventured into the jungle communication-less.

A few minutes later she was traversing the slender carved path, kept safe from any curious animals by a chemical mixture they had used to treat the ground- harmless to the vegetation and wild life, but just pungent enough to deter potentially dangerous creatures from the immediate area. Every yard a pair of glow rods illuminated the wilderness, her careful progress aided by her hand-held lantern-light.

While she still wasn't frightened by the jungle surrounding her, she was unsettled by the eerie green hue the rods cast on everything. Before she knew it, she had dropped her gaze, watching her feet and counting her steps in her head to keep her mind from wandering. The last thing she needed would be for her imagination to run away with her. She was aware that it wouldn't only be her immediate vicinity that caused such a thing to happen, either, but the unnerving visual anomalies she'd been duped into sitting through. _Get it together, Kagome, you're a scientist and you_ _already know what made those images_. She paused, lifting her gaze just long enough to gauge how far she was from the cavern- much to her relief, she was almost at the spot where the path began to curve around the mountain.

"Kagome," she muttered to herself, "perception is reality. If Grandpa was here, he'd have run over to the temple and purified every inch of the place, and you know what? The next reel of footage to come out of that chamber would _still_ have _exactly_ the same sort of creepy defects as the ones you just saw." Her bizarre feeling of familiarity with the area notwithstanding, of course- she was much more inclined to believe Professor Taisho's reasoning in that matter than that there was some other-worldly cause.

As she spun on her heel, turning herself to face the mouth of the cave she paused. For just a moment as she stared into that sparsely illuminated darkness she was overcome with the feeling that someone was standing behind her. The sensation was there and gone again in a blink, yet it had been so strong that she could have sworn a physical presence had been with her. Whatever it had been was gone now- she was certain of that- but she couldn't stop herself from casting a glance over her shoulder.

Her knees sagged a little beneath her as she confirmed that she was indeed alone, but the awareness of how real- how living, how_breathing_- it had felt sent a smattering of goosebumps rising across her skin. Letting out a heavy sigh, she turned her head forward again, shaking off the feeling only to find her motions stilling once more. Slowly already widened blue eyes lifted, catching the slimmest glimpse of the moon through a break in the canopy above. The gleaming, pearly white waxing crescent was almost hypnotic, the tapered ends appearing oddly sharp and elongated.

As beautiful as it was, she couldn't help thinking that there seemed something unnatural about it. _Okay, Kagome, now you're _really_being stupid,_ she forced a laugh at herself, _it's _just_ the moon, there's noth_- it felt like a chilled fingertip was dragging lightly along her spine. She bolted instantly, darting down into the tunnel, a hand clamped over her mouth to keep herself from screaming. Kagome might be running to hide behind the professor- from nothing more than her own imagination, she mocked herself even as she ran- but she had _no_ desire to give him the negative impression of hearing her shriek all the way to him like some frightened grade schooler.

The winding tunnel seemed longer than she remembered, her heart hammering in her chest with every step. She felt certain her entire ribcage must be rattling with the force of it by the time her feet hit the underground shore.

Common sense slammed into Kagome as she brought herself to a skittering halt a few meters before the temple. She _couldn't_ go running in there at top speed like this. Her body pitched forward from the waist up and she braced her hands on her knees as she caught her breath forcibly. She _couldn't _let her professor see her looking even remotely freaked out because then he'd ask why and she'd have to tell him . . . .

Straightening up, she inhaled deeply and smoothed her hair back from her face, tucking it behind her ears. She didn't _have_ to tell him the honest answer, she reasoned with herself as she pulled her legs to take plodding steps across the shore and start up the wide, flat stone stairs that led into the temple's ante chamber. However, if he saw her like _that_, he would ask what was wrong . . . and she already knew she would feel _irrationally_ compelled to tell him the truth.

She drew in another deep breath, through her nostrils this time, letting the rich earthy smells of damp air and salt water ground her. He would listen patiently to everything she had to say and then . . . he would decide that she was having some sort of breakdown and that she clearly wasn't ready for field work.

He'd have her sent home a mere two and a half weeks into the excavation.

That thought was sobering. Nodding to no one at all, Kagome took another moment to straighten herself out- tugging at corners of fabric and dusting her clothes off, whether or not they needed it- and then stepped into the temple.

Professor Taisho was in, what she was beginning to think of as, _the problem chamber_ when she found him. His long, sleek silver hair was tied back, the length of it falling past his waist as he knelt beside an altar. They'd all noted how odd it was that this temple had a handful of them- and they'd not even been through the entire structure, yet- and that in _this_ room, the altar was positioned differently from those they'd seen thus far. His back was to her, his field journal in one hand as he tipped his head this way and that, running the fingers of his other hand over the elaborate illustrations carved into the base of the altar.

"Still a mystery?" She asked quietly, not really surprised that she didn't startle him, he always seemed to know when she was there- he probably had an acute spacial awareness and could tell when anyone was near, she thought.

Sitting back on his heels, Professor Taisho set his notebook on the floor and rubbed his hands over his face. "Yes, but it's still early. We may not even have an answer in _this_ room. There could be others off-set like this one and this is just part of some pattern we can't see, yet. This," he paused briefly, turning his head to take in the area, "is a _strange _place."

His eyes moved from the far walls to rest on hers and after a mute second she quirked a brow.

"Shouldn't you have already turned in for the evening?" He finally asked.

She couldn't help laughing a little- somehow the frightening moment she'd had at the mouth of the cave felt very far from her suddenly. "Apparently when you stay awake- and _don't _have your PhD yet- people like to borrow you to help them out with stuff." She held up the book she'd been entrusted with in way of elaboration.

Instantly the professor pushed himself up to stand and turned on his heel to face her, a tiny flicker of half-smile playing on his lips as he pointed. "Is that what I hope it is?"

Kagome held the book out to him, nodding as he slid the small tome from her fingers and immediately started flipping through pages. "From what I was told, _yes. _Poor guy is probably going to sleep for the next two days, but he did seem pretty satisfied with himself."

Professor Taisho's shoulders shook ever so slightly in a brief, silent chuckle as his eyes roved the scribble-laden pages. "I hope he didn't make me sound like a slave driver. He was just as eager to put a rush on the translation as I was."

Kagome nodded, unable to stop her gaze from going to the section of wall where the lighting defects had occured. Strange, but from here it didn't look as though it dipped, or curved at all . . . perhaps it so slight that one had to be right in front of it to notice . . . .

The professor's eyes flickered up from the pages to see the girl staring at the far wall opposite the altar. A corner of her mouth was pulled tight to one side, creating a dimple in her cheek. He recognized that expression for the classroom. Higurashi Kagome was puzzling over something.

"What's fascinating you this time?"

She shrugged, turning her head to find him watching her, silver eyebrows lifted just a bit in question. "Sorry, I just . . . ." She let out a small, soft laugh at herself, stepping over to the altar and leaning back against it as she turned to face the wall. "All those visual anomalies occur in the same spot against _that_ wall. I'm wondering what it is about that section that's causing it."

He stepped to one side, mirroring her posture as he set the book down to rest his hips back against the altar and fold his arms across his chest. "All in the same spot, really?"

"Mm-hmm."

"That's good news, should make the issue easier to solve, then. I'm just wondering why _you _know about that since your friend Ryoushi was supposed to be handling the footage review."

Blue eyes went wide as she scrambled to phrase the answer well- she didn't want to get Sango in trouble. "Well, _I_ . . . volunteered to do it. See, um . . . she- she had something that . . . I just didn't want her to miss out because . . ." she could _hear_ herself babbling, but she just couldn't seem to _stop, _"there was this thing and she wanted to go, but she wouldn't 'cause um she had to work," and she was perfectly aware that she was nodding like an idiot after every word and gesturing vaguely but emphatically with both hands which, again, she just couldn't seem to stop doing, "so I said I'd do it. The work, I mean, not go to the . . . uh, _thing_ and-"

"Stop," the professor interrupted gently, holding up one hand as he pinched the bridge of his nose tiredly with the thumb and forefinger of the other. "Two things," he dropped his hands and looked at her. "One- I know about Ryoushi and Miroku. Two- you are a _terrible_ liar."

Her face fell instantly and her shoulders slumped. "I'm sorry I just . . ." she sighed. "I know Miroku's _not_ in a position that prevents him from um . . . fratenizing with students, but he _is_ your assistant and I didn't know if maybe it would be the sort of thing you would frown on."

Professor Taisho shrugged, his brow furrowing lightly. "As long as an 'off hours' relationship doesn't affect their work, then I don't feel it's my place to step in. In this case, it _could _be seen as an interference, but as Ryoushi found a competent co-worker willing to take over for her, it can be allowed to slide."

"You're speaking as if you're our boss instead of our teacher," she observed aloud.

"I suppose that's because on site that's how I actually see you all. Understand that here, you're not a _student,_ Higurashi. You are a future colleague- and I'm the one honored with making that future happen."

Kagome knew she probably looked dazzled, but she couldn't help it. Certainly she'd always felt honored to have Taisho Sesshomaru as her professor- she never imagined he felt even a shred of that in return. ". . . Wow," she managed after a moment that she knew wasn't nearly as long in passing as it had felt to her. "I don't think I'd have thought of it like that, but I guess it is true."

"That aside, I'd thought you would be more concerned for Ryoushi due to Miroku's . . . _friendly_ nature with the female students."

She felt her eyes go wide again. "You know about Miroku's flir- . . ." her words trailed off at the look of mild amusement on the professor's face, "of course you do. It's not like I'm not worried that she might get hurt, but . . . I don't know, she's just really into him and there's that old saying about love being blind." She offered a tiny shrug. "I think in some cases, it's deaf and dumb, too."

"So I've heard," he responded offhandedly.

The girl's dark, arched brows slowly inched their way up her forehead.

He shook his head at her look of obvious disbelief, giving a short chuckle at himself, uncertain of when the conversation had taken a semi-personal turn, but oddly at ease with the change of direction. "Oh, no it's not as though I've been living under a rock. Work," he paused, gesturing around to the chamber, itself, "_our_ work has simply always taken precedence in my life. When opportunity has knocked . . . I've been rushing out the back door to get to a lecture."

She giggled a little at that, somewhat in spite of herself as she remembered what Sango had said to her earlier. "I might be the same way, some day. Apparently I have all the makings of a 'proper workaholic'. If I can't find someone that can understand how important this all is to me . . ." she shook her head, giving a considerate, yet almost sad grin, "I'm gonna be a spinster. But, at least I'll be an accomplished spinster."

His brow furrowed thoughtfully, amber eyes roving the chamber for a few seconds. "Then I suppose Ryoushi and Miroku are lucky to find themselves in a relationship with someone who understands from the beginning the demands of a career in this field."

They'd both been staring off, but his words struck a chord within her and she brought her eyes to him. As though he felt the weight of it, he turned his head, meeting her gaze. They shared a moment of quiet contemplation, though neither seemed to know what was really going through their own head.

She began to wonder that if they waited just long enough, she wouldn't see a flicker of comprehension flicker in those amber depths. It was a wonder that was in danger of setting off butterflies in her stomach. _Why_ didn't she just excuse herself and go back to camp?

Understanding that the continued silence was only serving to make the situation awkward, he snatched the leather bound journal up from the altar and flipped the front cover open. "Shall we see if the answer to this place is in these pages, future colleague?"

He knew he'd taken the right tack- her expression lit up, losing any trace of that skittish uncertainty he thought he'd spied for just a moment.

"What, really?" She'd be one of the first people to know what this place was? The very notion was overwhelming to her.

Professor Taisho gave a half-nod. "Well, if that's what this says," he once more gestured vaguely to the walls with is free hand. "Of course it could always be something truly dramatic . . . like a recipe list."

Kagome didn't know how to respond to that. ". . . Do you always get like this when you work into the wee hours?"

Blinking, he checked his watch and then turned his attention back to the book. "It's only just after midnight. I get worse."

It was quiet in the chamber again as he skimmed the scribbled pages. During that time, a handful of varying expressions flitted across his face. "Hmm," he said at last.

"Is something wrong?"

"This place . . . is a tomb."

She was very confused by that- it was a teaching contradictory to many things she'd learned about this culture already. "But I thought Mezzo Americans used temples for worship and sacrifice; that they kept their burial places separate."

The professor nodded. "It seems this _was_ a place of worship and sacrifice . . ." he tipped his head to one side for a moment before going on, "_unique_ sacrifices . . . and then it became a tomb."

Her face scrunched up in thought. "Worship of what? We haven't seen any symbols or signs of tribute to the native deities."

His eyes snapped up from the book to lock on hers and something in his look had a shiver threatening to run up her spine. "That's because this temple- it's very existence- would have been _blasphemy, _even to these people. It was built by a cult that worshiped a demon."

The revelation was jarring, but just like that Kagome's brain was struggling to comprehend the oddities this place had presented her with thus far. "That's why it was built in a place that was so difficult to get to." It was almost a reflex when her fingers snapped as another piece of the puzzle slid into place. "Maybe that even explains the unique dialect of the text. Like it isn't actually its own dialect, but a deliberate shift in meaning or word usage- like a code only the cult members would readily understand."

"Very good," he said, his voice somewhat numb. This was why she was his favorite student.

"But wait . . . then who's this tomb for?"

A thoughtful frown tugged at the corners of Professor Taisho's mouth as those amber eyes seemed to become icy. "For the demon."


	4. Even After Death

**Chapter Four**

Even After Death

Kagome felt cold in the pit of her stomach- but it was irrational, she told herself, and could be chased away by reason. "Then it's not a _real _tomb, but a representation, right?"

"No. According to this, there are actual _physical_ remains here."

"Then . . . it wasn't a demon."

The professor made an amused sound in the back of his throat and immediately she felt a little of the edge taken off of her sudden unease, but only a little. "Of course not- it was most likely a very evil man who was _very_ good at manipulating people. Part of the text details the cremation and preservation of his ashes. Not only did this man have them believing he was some sort of," he couldn't hide the faint, mildly embarrassed smile playing on his lips, "lust demon, but that if his remains were preserved then he could return some day."

Her brow furrowed. "Wait, lust demon? What, you mean like an incubus?"

Again the professor shook his head. "Not exactly. An incubus would appear as a gnarled old man, whereas this 'demon' was considered extraordinarily handsome and an incubus was more brutal in taking his victims, while this . . . _man_ used smoother and more enticing means."

The direction of the conversation had Kagome feeling a little shy now, but she pushed beyond that, vehemently reminding herself that _as_ his future colleague she couldn't simply back away from discoveries just because she was uncomfortable discussing certain_mature_ subject matter with him. "So the _unique_ sacrifices you mentioned were actually . . . ."

He nodded, his eyebrows inching upward just a bit. "They referred to him as The Thief of Bliss. To put it a bit more long-winded, He who stole from mortals that which is akin to Heaven on Earth."

Face scrunching up again- maybe the shyness was shutting down her innate problem-solving processes- she muttered, "What?"

"He seduced woman and then murdered them, it seems, but . . . not until after the offered female had . . ." he ended the sentence with an awkward-sounding clearing of his throat.

"Oh," she replied simply, giving a quick nod before what the words actually meant hit her and she went a hint wide-eyed. "Ohhh . . . so they would . . . ."

"Yes."

"And he'd wait until the woman was . . . ."

"Precisely."

"And then he _killed_ them? Liks some kind of . . . black widow-_er_?"

"I believe so. It doesn't _say_ he killed them, exactly. It explains that offering oneself to The Thief was concerned a great honor. He would 'gorge himself' on the bliss he brought to his offerings and inadvertently drain their life entirely. It is a little odd, I feel, that the text stresses that he could 'feed' without killing them, but the people were so generous that he saw no need to control himself."

"That's a dead-on definition of sexual predator if ever there was one."

The professor sighed heavily, his broad shoulders slumpling a little as he turned the page. "And he had an entire village so brainwashed that they _enabled_ him. This entire scenario is so twisted and . . . ."

He fell quiet again for a long time as his gaze roved the written words. His expression became increasingly somber the further he read. He turned to the next page and all she could do was watch his eyes slowly darken. His lips folded inward forming a thin, pained line as he shook his head.

"Professor?"

He didn't meet her gaze, keeping his eyes on the book. "This is an account of The Thief's final days. It almost reads like . . . ."

"Shakespeare, comparatively?"

Professor Taisho nodded somewhat stiffly.

"That's what Bruckner said." She remembered now- the linguist was an American named . . . _Something_ Bruckner- alright, so she sort of remembered.

"I don't think he realized just how perfectly he hit the nail on the head; it isn't only the way it's portrayed, but the actual _story._ His forte is ancient languages, not cultures. He knew what he was reading, he just couldn't fully understand how _very_ bizarre it all, truly, was."

"That still doesn't explain why you look so . . . thunder-struck," Kagome interjected smoothly in a quiet voice.

Finally he did raise his gaze, turning his head to meet her eyes. "In his final days, The Thief become obsessed with a particular young woman. As I said, it was considered a great honor for a woman to be accepted by him as a sacrifice. Men _wanted_ him to choose their wives because it was considered something like a status symbol. The cult's high priest . . . had a daughter."

A pained look skittered across Kagome's face, certain she knew where this was going.

Professor Taisho gave a brief nod, agreeing with her expression. "The girl wanted to offer herself to the 'demon,' but her father wouldn't allow it. Whether it was because he loved her too much or he began to doubt that The Thief was really what he claimed to be, it doesn't say. The Thief, of course, found out about the holy man's refusal and, as he'd never been refused _anything_ by these people before, he began to obsess over the idea of having this one girl . . . and then he learned that she shared his want.

"He convinced her that the only way she would be free to sacrifice herself to him was be if she killed her father. So she did . . . or she _tried_ to. She poisoned him, but didn't use nearly enough of whatever it was so he appeared to have expired, when really he'd only been rendered unconscious. Understanding what the girl had attempted to do, her father let her think she'd succeeded- he'd once been The Thief's most trusted follower, so he knew the demon's weakness. He was vulnerable enough to be killed by mortal means when he was about to consume a sacrifice's offering.

"The priest waited in hiding until his daughter," he gave another uncomfortable clearing of his throat, "made her offering and just as The Thief was about to . . . partake, the man killed them both. Even with his most favored servant turning on him, The Thief still had loyal worshippers. They lamented his death, torturing and killing the priest in an attempt to ease their grief. They then cremated the murdered pair, carefully blessing and storing The Thief's ashes somewhere in this temple. It doesn't say what became of the girl's ashes, or her father's remains."

The professor closed the book and set it back on the altar. A long moment of mute thoughtfulness passed between them. It was a horrible, tragic story to Kagome- and it wasn't even with a saving grace. They hadn't died because of some star-crossed love, or anything precious like that, but over . . ._ lust_? That was just so _petty_. It only made the tale that much more awful.

"It's a horrible thing that happened here, Professor, but . . . I don't understand why your expression is so _severe_ because of it."

He let out a deep sigh, his eyes moving from hers to stare off again. "I can't say I know exactly why, it _is_ just an ancient scandal and we stumble across those all the time in this line of work. Perhaps it's _that, _though. Most often it was over something _bigger_ . . . titles, power, lands. There's just something to this that makes me feel like," he paused, uncharacteristically at a loss for eloquent or appropriate phrasing for a moment.

He gave a slow, mystified shake of his head. "For the first time in my career I feel like I'm _desecrating_ something."

Without thinking it through, she reached over, gently touching his shoulder, but then letting her hand fall away just as quickly. "You_can't_ think like that, Professor. That man . . . this _Thief_ was a murderer. All the women he killed would still be forgotten- the priest and his daughter, forgotten- if it wasn't for what we're doing here. I understand now, I think. The girl and her father are lost to time, while this _deplorable_ man was cared for and revered even after his death."

The professor gave a shallow nod, amber eyes on the floor now. Even though he seemed to be contemplating her words, his expression hadn't softened in the least.

Kagome's mouth twitched left to right a few times as she tried to come up with something to redirect his thoughts. She didn't like seeing him so vexed and then her eyes, wandering the chamber as they'd been, came to rest on the far wall.

"Um . . . we should maybe examine that section to see if we can't figure out what's causing those anomalies," she glanced over at him in questioning, hoping he didn't perceive her meager attempt to take charge of the situation as stepping on his toes in some way.

Professor Taisho looked up at the wall and she was relieved to see a spark of interest enter his eyes, though a minute lift of his brows was the only change to his expression. "We certainly should." With a nod, he pushed away from the altar and strode across the chamber to that wall, Kagome following close at his heels.

The designs carved into this particular section were unlike the rest of the text decorating the walls. While still no known diety was shown or referred to, the symbols here were repetitive, the same series of shapes again and again. The professor stepped directly up to it and then inched sideways, making room for her beside him as he frowned a little.

Pointing to the symbols, he explained, "Now that I know what I'm looking at, this is his name, _just_ his name, over and over. What an ego . . . . This is very probably the room where his took his offerings."

She nodded, running a hand delicately along the age-worn stone. "That might explain why the altar was placed as it is. It's directly across from this." The run of the wall beneath her fingertips felt even and she found herself borrowing her professor's darkened expression from a few minutes ago.

Not only did this disprove the only real idea she'd had about the cause of those lighting defects, but the symbols themselves bothered her. They were so simple, though- two sharply elongated triangles, laid one atop the other, their tips pointing to a waxing crescent moon and then another pair of triangles laid in the opposite direction so that they, as well, pointed toward the moon. The tips of the moon's crescent were exaggerated, reminding her briefly of the way the moon in the sky had looked to her tonight.

"I have always wondered something," Professor Taisho was saying, unwittingly drawing her out of her grim reverie. "That is, I wonder if there's a correlation between genetics and spirituality."

Her bottom lip pulled into a tight, thoughtful little pout as she turned her head to look up at him. "What would make you think so?"

He shrugged as he continued running his fingers over the symbols, slowly moving lower along the wall after a line of shapes proved to have no abnormalities; by now he was hunched down enough that Kagome was nearly eye-level with him. "Well, it's been reported that psychic phenomena is stronger in those who have some family history of it than in those who are an aberration in their line. A child who is deeply psychic may not have a parent who's even a bit spiritually sensitive, but," he shrugged lightly, "they usually have a grandparent or great grandparent that was."

"O-_kay_," she said slowly, confused by his seemingly directionless observation. "Why are we thinking about this now?"

Glancing quickly at her as he moved to a lower row, Professor Taisho gave another of his short, somewhat self-deprecating chuckles. "I haven't lost my mind yet, Higurashi. I always have valid reasons for the places my mind wanders to. I am wondering about this because of what you told me when we arrived here- about the feelings you have toward this place. Your grandfather is a shrine priest, yes?"

She nodded silently only quirking a brow, totally unsure of where he was going with this.

"Did you or your mother ever receive training in those same rites and traditions?"

Again she nodded. "Yes, both of us. Though I really haven't done any of it since I was little, I barely remember any of that stuff."

At that he gave her a brief look that made her think he was mentally shaking a finger at her. "You have a living tie to an ancient religious tradition and you let yourself forget it? What kind of archeologist are you shaping up to be?"

Kagome shrugged, returning, at last, to inspecting the section of wall he'd left to her. "The kind that knows there's a difference between ancient ways _during_ ancient times and ancient traditions as we know and practice them today?"

He gave a long blink, sparing a moment to glance at his watch. "Even at one in the morning, you're sharp as a tack."

"I've been here for an hour, really?"

The professor offered a distracted nod. "Having fun, time flying and all that."

A small laugh escaped her as she bent to the next row of symbols before her. "What were you saying?"

"I wonder if things like spiritual sensitivity run in families- perhaps that's what makes you feel the way you do around this place. It was recorded that they performed a very intense rite to bless and preserve The Thief's ashes." He glanced over for only a second, but it was long enough to catch her quirked brow of disbelief. "Understand that I'm speaking of the energy a person's mind can subconsciously generate- especially during things they believe deeply in, like religious ceremonies. Perhaps the energy created during rites performed by his followers left some residual sensation behind and that's what you're feeling."

She smiled- despite already being so far down the wall that they were both sitting on their heels and had not yet seemed to find a thing. "I see, now. Once you get to your point, you really do make a whole lot of sense."

Professor Taisho turned a feigned expression of being taken aback on her. "Are you poking fun at me?"

"I blame the late hour and lack of sleep- oh, and lack of _decent_ coffee."

A silver brow inched ever so slightly upward as he turned back to his inspection. "Hmph. I will let that slide for the moment, then."

"You want to know something weird?" She asked, tipping her head as she spied what might be a crack in the wall.

"Hmm?"

"This is a waxing crescent- it's the same moon that's out tonight."

He took a second to let out a wistful sigh. "I do love bizarre coincidences."

She scowled a little at that- he seriously got loopy late at night, didn't he? Reaching out, she dragged a fingertip lightly along the crack. She realized it must be wider than it looked, because she was almost certain that she could feel air passing from the chamber into the barely visible crevice.

"Professor?"

"Hmm?" He said again, frowning at his apparent lack of finding anything anomalous.

"Take a look at this."

She shuffled over, making room for him to sit just where she'd been, but kept her finger on the crack, pinpointing it for him. The professor took her place, amber eyes narrowing as he pressed his fingers just beneath hers against the wall. He followed it upwards for just a few centimeters before a wisp of half-grin tugged at his lips.

"Here, tell me what you notice," he murmured, caught up in the search as he took hold of her fingers with his other hand and dragged them up along the stone to rest just beside his.

Kagome diligently ignored the quick flip-flop her stomach did at his careless touch and focused on the texture of the wall, the rough and faintly jagged line of the crack beneath her skin. Much to her surprise, she _did_ notice something.

Raising her gaze along the wall, she moved her hand from his, tracing the line as it disappeared beneath a symbol and popped up again on the other side to run into the next line. "It runs beneath the crescent moons."

"Good girl," he said quietly, following the crack in the other direction. "I think there is a very good reason his name is all over this wall."

She forced a gulp down her throat- she almost didn't want this to house that murder's remains, huge find or not- but then a light grating sound met their ears. Professor Taisho shared a bewildered look with her- they were being _so_ gentle, how could they have disrupted anything- before either of them realized what was happening.

The cracked section of wall buckled suddenly, snapping into pieces. Kagome found herself knocked out of the way as a portion fell outward, crashing into the temple floor exactly where they'd been crouched only a second ago and the other caved back, beyond her range of vision, another sound of stone crashing against stone shaking through her.

After a long moment she pulled in a trembling breath, letting it out slowly, somehow too frightened to care that Professor Taisho had thrown himself protectively over her. He slowly raised himself off of her, resting his weight on his palms and looking around a bit dazedly at the clouds of dust which still had yet to settle entirely.

He dropped his gaze to hers- his eyes a little wider than she had ever seen them, Professor Taisho just wasn't the _going wide eyed at something _type. "That was unexpected. Are you alright?"

"I . . . think so, just a little . . . surprised."

Nodding slowly, he pushed himself to his feet and offered her a hand up. She accepted, fighting a brief wobbly feeling in her legs as she stood- it was out of fear, _not_ because his body had just been pressed right on top of hers, a little voice in the back of her head reminded her, though she was pretty certain it was, in fact, a little of both. He stepped lightly around the shattered section of wall and peered into the deceptively large, darkened alcove that had been revealed.

"Bring me a lantern," he muttered and Kagome rushed to grab hers from where she'd sent it down near the altar, running it back to him.

Switching it on, he held it out before him and she gingerly traced his steps, tilting her body to peer around his shoulder. Through the settling, faintly glittering whirls of dust the latern's beam revealed a row of small, intricately inscribed earthen-clay jars, each capped with a delicately crafted waxing crescent.

"Those almost look like-"

"Canopic jars, I know," Professor Taisho finished the spoken thought for her.

Nothing further about how strange this was needed to be said- canopic jars were an Ancient Egyptian tradition, there seemed no way for this isolated tribe to have borrowed it. Perhaps they'd come up with a similar practice all on their own? But canopic jars been used for storing organs, not cremated remains, unless . . . .

"Professor? Is is possible they removed his organs and cremated all his . . . parts separately?"

He cautiously raised a leg over the cracked bit of wall still standing and set his foot down inside the alcove- confident in his belief that someday this girl was going to outshine him. "It is- traditionally it was only possessions that were stored in jars for these people and_ those _jars tend to resemble baskets."

Kagome was looking around the space while the professor studied the jars with his eyes. He didn't notice the last piece of jagged, unsteady stone at last work its way loose from the chamber ceiling.

"Look out!" She latched her hands around his elbow, yanking him back with all her strength and they stumbled a few steps just as it finally broke free and plummetted into the alcove.

An unmistakable sound- like ceramic shattering- was oddly distinct during the crash and had the professor rushing back to investigate immediately. She was afraid to look, but suddenly Professor Taisho fell backward, hitting the ground hard on his back and letting out rough, hacking coughs that echoed unnervingly through the chamber.

"Professor!" Instantly she was on her knees beside him trying to help him to sit up.

For a moment, she thought it appeared as though he was fighting with something she just couldn't see. A flicker of light caught her attention from the corner of her eye and she pulled her worried gaze from her violently coughing professor nearly against her will to look over her shoulder.

The ash from the shattered containers was hanging in the air, whirling ever so faintly like the dust clouds had been. The light flickered again and she realized it was, _impossibly_, being cast by the ashes, themselves. Her arms were still loosely around Professor Taisho's shoulders and she felt him pulling on her. Snapping her attention back to him, she saw his eyes on the whirling ash and he was trying to scramble backward even as those wracking coughs continued to tear out of his throat.

She was turning her head rapidly, trying to keep her attention on both the professor and the impossible thing occuring in the alcove. The light spun then, collecting into a single pin-prick of brightness before suddenly exploding forward and slamming into his body. The force of the impact rocketed him away from Kagome and across the floor, colliding with the altar.

Deafening silence descended on the chamber almost instantly and she simply watched him for a long, silent moment. He wasn't moving- from here, she could barely tell if he was even breathing. The entire catastrophe had shaken his hair loose, so it now spilled over his face and onto his neck and chest- she couldn't even tell if his eyes were open or closed.

Slowly she inched her way over to him on her hands and knees, fighting an upwelling of tears the entire time. The center of her chest clenched painfully as she wondered how badly injured he was- she told herself it was only her fear. She reached him at last, biting deep into her lower lip to still its trembling as she delicately scooped his hair into her hands and pushed it back from his face.

He gasped loudly and she immediately fell back from him, barely restraining herself from screaming. It wasn't the sudden sound that terrified her, but his face. The _impossible _change to his face. She blinked a few times, fighting tears that were now, definitely-_unquestionably_- welling up out of fear. She knew she should be confused, too, but perhaps the fear was blotting anything else out.

Professor's Taisho's cheeks were stained, each side of his face baring thin, sharply elongated magenta triangles, almost like slashes and a pale blue waxing crescent moon adorned the center of his forehead. And his ears . . . were they . . . _pointed_? She felt the color and warmth drain from her entirely as his eyes slowly flickered open.

He instantly pulled himself to sit upright and all Kagome could do was sit, mute and confused and horrifically terrified as she stared into a pair of utterly inhuman golden eyes.


	5. The Thief of Bliss

**Chapter Five**

The Thief of Bliss

The first thing he became _truly_ aware of was the unfamiliar sensation of breathing- drawing air into his lungs and releasing it again was something he had not felt in such a _very_ long time.

Oh how many lunar cycles had he lingered here, waiting to be found? He understood this man, this . . . _Taisho Sesshomaru_. From the moment his essence had collided with this man's body, the demon began delving through his mind.

He had observed these people, unable to do precious little else, waiting to discern who was in a position of power and authority over these other humans. He had found that the more he focused on _that_ person, the more he was able to slowly build himself within this Sesshomaru's shadow. Yet it was not until that girl had joined this man by the earthly remains that the blessings on his precious consecrated jars could be enacted.

Thoughts coursed through his mind at lightning speed as he raced to comprehend things essential to this moment. The rush of information he absorbed from this man's mind was exhilarating, yet a little alarming- his kind did not seem to exist for them. That could prove a problem he would have to think his way around quickly. More immediately he returned his attention to his host.

This Sesshomaru was fluent in languages the demon had never heard . . . Japanese? French? Latin? And what in all the bloody planes of existence was _English? _He grasped this man's history, his personal ties . . . his position of high standing within a formidably intelligent community.

The demon felt he should be more _enraged._ According to this man's mind, his people- his followers- had forgotten him. They had seen to his final wishes and then simply . . . _disappeared_, leaving him to stew, to mentally rot and fester here.

But he could not, he found his anger tempered by his host's natural inclination toward being calm and collected. That might prove to be infuriating all on its own.

Only mere seconds had passed between that first breath and this moment as he pulled himself to sit up, opening his eyes. For the space of a few heartbeats he was awestruck by the girl before him. Her irises were _blue_ . . . none of his people had ever bared coloring such as this.

Another quick sift through this Sesshomaru's thoughts showed him what he needed to know about her. That it was only around her that this man showed even a hint of a smile, only around her that he gained the ability to laugh at himself. He had become aware that she was- notably against her will- possibly growing infatuated with him, but unlike those other, _silly,_ females that looked at him in such a manner, from her he found he did not quite mind.

Taisho Sesshomaru told himself things that were not wholly truthful about this situation. To begin with, that he admired her intelligence and intuitive nature and _that_ was the reason he did not find it bothersome might she have developed a _crush_- what a very odd word one should use to mean such a thing- on him. Or that he found himself so at ease in her presence _only_ because they each seemed to understand the way the other thought.

It had only been a little earlier this very night that this Sesshomaru had realized . . . that for a hair's breadth of time she appeared as the perfect fit for something he understood to be wholly missing from his life . . . . He grasped that should he choose to act upon feelings he thought he was developing toward her, he could jeopardize her future. It was because of this that these realizations had been slammed into a far, cramped corner of his mind so quickly that his cognitive processes barely had time to register that he had those type of thoughts toward her at all.

He was protecting this girl on an almost instinctive basis. The demon gave a mostly humorless inward chuckle at that. _How sweet._

He was acutely aware instantly of her closeness, of the sound of her rushed and panicked breathing. He could smell her skin, the unnatural, but sweet perfume scent of her hair. He spared a moment to look down at himself.

Long silvery-white hair draped his shoulders. His hair had been black as pitch during his time. He raised his hands, flexing slowly fingers that were tipped with fine, sharp claws. He already knew his face bore the markings with which his people had adorned his tomb, that- as with his strangely muted and detached temperament- was a product of merging his soul with a body which was already inhabited by one. A curious finger he touched to his ear and he repressed the urge to let out a small sigh of exasperation and utter a sound like _hmph._ What a very odd noise one should make.

He looked again to the girl with the sea-colored eyes not far from him and he realized that after all this time he so very, very . . ._hungry._

Kagome didn't know quite what to make of the situation as she watched him examining his own hands and hair and ears as though they were all alien to him. She was unfamiliar with the feeling of being clueless and in absolute dread of the notion that she just might be helpless. Maybe, she hoped fiercely, this was still the man she knew.

"P- . . . Professor?" She ventured finally in a barely audible whisper.

Those bizarrely golden eyes blinked slowly at her and she got the oddest impression that he was consciously registering her speech.

After a long moment, the _thing_ before her said, "Yes, Kagome?"

She fought not to go wide-eyed even a little, fought not to gulp. _Kagome . . ._ this was _not_ Professor Taisho. But she thought maybe he was testing her, checking to see if she _understood_ what had happened. And she did- only a little, but it was enough, she was sure- but no way in hell was she about to let him know that. The demon had _actually_ been a demon . . . such things _actually_ existed . . . and she had no choice but to dwell on, and feel shocked about, that _later_.

"Are you alright?" She managed to force out the words at last.

He gave a nod, his entire expression even and detached- she'd seen Professor Taisho like this before, around others, but not with her . . . not recently, anyway, now that she noticed it. "I am famished." His voice came out in a low, emotionless monotone, but something about it seemed to whisper across her skin like a soft, heated breath.

She shook the sensation it created away- it was unnatural to feel her body shift gears so suddenly, to instantly go from chilled with fear to warm and wanting to respond to his very presence in the space of a single heart beat. It was such a shockingly primal urge that it scared her. That he could do that to her just by speaking only increased her dreaded feeling of helplessness.

Forcing herself to her feet, she nodded a bit emphatically as she spun on her heel and started for the chamber's entry way, trying to hide that she was unclipping her walkie from her belt. She didn't know who she was going to reach or what she would say, but she_had_ to get out of here, she had to find someone to put between her and this _thing._

She turned her head, calling over her shoulder, "I'll run back to camp and get you something, then."

"Where are you going?" Kagome heard as she set her head straight again.

He was standing in the chamber's entrance suddenly and she froze in her tracks, accidentally loosing the grip on her walkie. It clattered loudly to the temple floor, and she was too unnerved to even work up a cringe at the echo that followed. It wasn't _possible_for something to move that quickly! For a split-second, a tiny voice in the back of her head told her that if she paid just enough attention, she would likely her the sound of her psyche slowly fracturing This _couldn't_ be happening- she _had_ to be losing her mind. If she wanted anything to ever make sense again, it was the only explanation.

She tried her best to stay- at least visibly- calm, to not let him see her fear. "You, um, you said-"

"I said," he took a step, Taisho Sesshomaru's naturally long stride closing the distance between them easily. "I am _famished."_

This time Kagome couldn't stop the hard, painful gulp that went down her throat as she stared up at him. "I- I know, that's why I s- said I'd go-"

His hand shot out, snatching her wrist smoothly to spin her and pull her back against him. His voice remained calm, even and detached as he lowered his head, pushing her hair away and over one shoulder so that his lips brushed against her ear ever so slightly as he spoke.

"I am aware that you know who and what I am, little priestess."

Terror was edging around her brain like acid in odd contrast to the acute awareness of how warm and solid his body was against hers. She was at a complete loss for what to do. She couldn't outrun him- he'd just proved as much- she couldn't overpower him- Sango could take her in a fight, her thirteen year old brother could take her in a fight . . . oh hell, her pudgy ball of a cat Buyo could probably take her in a fight- and she didn't remember enough of her grandfather's rites to subdue him somehow.

As far as she knew, there was only one way to be rid of him- she knew his story, but he'd just called her priestess . . . he was speaking her language . . . he'd called her Kagome. Didn't that have to mean- as she hoped and prayed that it did- that Professor Taisho was still alive in there, somewhere? The only way to be rid of this thing would be to kill it . . . to _kill_ Professor Taisho.

Her eyes drifted closed, trapping fearful tears beneath her lids. "Please," she whispered, aware that her voice shook a little. "Please, I am _not_ a sacrifice for you. I don't _want_ to die."

"I gain more from your continued existence than I do from your death," The Thief muttered with a barely quirked brow.

Oddly, this was the truth- he grasped that in this new world he no longer had the freedom to exist as indulgently as he once had- gorging himself was simply no longer an option. He would have to get by on scraps . . . distasteful, yet far better than starvation, but one does what one must to survive. This was the opportune moment to test the boundaries of her affections for this Sesshomaru.

"I will not take you as a sacrifice, little priestess," he paused briefly, slipping his arms around her and pulling her more firmly against him, his warm breath whispering over her throat, his lips brushing her ear still, "but you will present me an offering."

She felt again the irrational, unwilling change in her body's reaction to him. That little voice in her head told her that this _was_Professor Taisho's body The Thief was using . . . perhaps if she could pretend, for just a moment, that this was- _no!_

"Like hell I am," she replied, her voice barely a thread of sound and she wished she could have at least _sounded_ as brave as she'd intended those words to be.

"You will comply with my need of you or I shall find myself forced to destroy this Sesshomaru."

Her eyes snapped open and she couldn't help turning her head, letting the back of it roll against his chest as she look at him. Leaning down as he'd been, she found herself face to face with The Thief.

"_What_?" That _had_ to mean Professor Taisho was still in there! "You can't! Not- not without destroying yourself, right?" She nearly jumped out of her skin at the feel of him tugging on her shirt, pulling it up for his fingers to slowly trace up her abdomen.

A barely visible frown played at the corners of his mouth. "I intend not to destroy his being. Though I am only _sharing_ this form, I am as subject to self-preservation as any creature. If you will not make offerings for me, then I will have to go to others for sustenance . . ." even though this wasn't _really_ Professor Taisho, she felt a little burning jab at the notion of this thing using the professor's body to_be_ _with_ other women, "in _this_ form. I understand that his reputation in your society . . . your _Academia, _would suffer greatly was he to become known as a . . . womanizer, I believe is the correct term."

Kagome felt another tight, painful clenching in her chest at his words. Being a bastard in any regard was hardly against any laws or regulations, but no one would want to work with him, his colleagues would shun him- all for fear that associating with him would be viewed as condoning such behavior. It would ruin his career and that, she knew, _would_ destroy Taisho Sesshomaru.

His fingers continued to drag upward until they reached her breasts and she sucked in a shocked gasp at the feel of his claws raking delicately over her nipples through the satiny fabric of her bra.

"You're not leaving me any choice," she muttered bleakly.

After a few moments the soft bits of flesh had hardened into tight little points beneath his touch and he slowly slipped one hand away, back down over her ribcage and abdomen to start unbuckling her belt. "Such was my intention. Fear not, for now I shall sate myself on but a morsel."

It was odd, she noted in a detached corner of her mind, that even as his claws continued to stroke over her breast, even as his hand undid her zipper to begin creeping beneath her panties, his voice was still so utterly blank, so _empty_. She closed her eyes, turning her face away from his as she felt his fingertips parting her gently. Another gasp tore its way out of her throat as those fingers entered her slowly.

"You will calm yourself," he demanded smoothly, "I am truly," he withdrew his now-moistened fingers from her and slid them forward between feminine folds until her hips jerked involuntarily, "attempting to make this simple for you."

Her teeth sank deep into her bottom lip as the tips of his fingers began to rub over the sensitive little bead of flesh he'd found there. She didn't _want_ this to feel good, she didn't _want_ him to make her like this. Almost as though he sensed her stubbornness, he dropped his head then to drag his teeth and tongue along the pulse in the side of her throat and rolled his hips forward, pressing himself tightly against her.

His stroking fingers worked faster and she shuddered at the feel of him on her- he was already hard. Inexplicably, it was all she could do not to move back against him. She couldn't entirely banish the idea that this was the Professor . . . she _knew_ it wasn't him, but that it was his body cradling hers . . . that it was Professor Taisho rocking his hardened length- unbelievably warm, even through their clothes- against her bottom.

She was still fighting him a little. He had to nudge her over the edge. "All you need do," he murmured softly, weaving his hunger into his voice, "is come for me, little priestess."

For just a moment Kagome lost touch with her fear, but it was long enough. She found her hips moving- rubbing herself harder against his fingers, rocking against the solid length of him behind her- of their own volition.

A tingling warmth was beckoning to her, forcing her muscles to go taut and he moved his head to bite down on the back of her neck, sucking just a bit savagely on her skin. The hand at her breast was grasping roughly now and his fingertips rubbed faster, working that precious little bead of flesh in rapid circles that had her moaning behind clenched teeth.

The orgasm washed through her and she couldn't help crying out, her hands gripping his forearms to steady herself as she raised up on her toes, every inch of her tense with it. She wasn't prepared for the delicious warmth dancing and spiraling through her body. There was a low, indistinct sound like a hungry growl behind her and she tried to cling to it, to remind herself of what was really happening, but another warm, tingling wave crashed through her forcing it away from her again. As it began to ebb, she found her hips rocking in time with his motions once more. His fingers moved over her still, guiding her through the sweet, shuddering aftershocks as it ended.

_That was it, right? Please, that _had_ to be it_, she thought mournfully as her mind slowly regained control of her body. She instantly felt a deep self-loathing that was equal parts used and as though she'd somehow betrayed Professor Taisho even as her body trembled pleasantly in the wake of- what was so _very_ unfortunately- her first orgasm.

He withdrew his hands and she immediately stumbled away from him on unsteady legs, spinning on her heel to face him as she angrily righted her clothing. His eyes were . . . _glowing, _the expression on that face- that didn't belong to _him_, she reminded herself- though still markedly reserved, gave a hint that looked nearly as though he'd shared in her climax.

"My name," he murmured, pausing long enough to slip his fingers into his mouth, those glowing golden eyes closing for a moment as he savored the taste of her- she was a virgin? What a pleasant surprise, though he wondered with a dim sort of amusement if her precious Professor Taisho Sesshomaru was aware of that, "was Nah Rah Ku. I am aware you understand what this means."

"Thief of Bliss," she whispered, her tone hollow and lifeless as she replied around the painful lump forming in her throat. She would_not_ cry in front of this thing.

He nodded slowly as the glow in his eyes began to fade. "I find that I do rather like this new name, this _Sesshomaru_. It is what you will call me."

Her lip trembled and she folded her arms tightly around herself to keep from physically lashing out at him- he could probably tear her limbs from their sockets without breaking a sweat, wasn't that the sort of thing demons were capable of? "B-but that name isn't_yours."_

He glanced down at himself and then gave a small, unconcerned shrug. "Such is a matter of semantics. I kept my word, I took from you but a morsel of sustenance. Continue providing me with such and your Taisho Sesshomaru will be protected from my machinations- of which, I assure you, I am quite capable."

This was the reason the tale had done him no justice, she thought dully. The Thief of Bliss was cruel, manipulative and selfish. She wondered- she _hoped_- that this was why his people had forgotten him, that perhaps after his death the affect he'd had on them had worn off and they'd realized what a wretched, downright evil, being their Nah Rah Ku really was.

Cold settled in the pit of her stomach as she forced herself to nod. "I don't doubt that."

"You will make my offerings, then?"

She knew that even though he'd posed the statement as a question, it actually wasn't- she was well aware that he _knew_ he had her backed into a corner. With another forced gulp, another fight to hold back tears, she gave a small, stiff nod. What _else_ could she do? _Who_ could she run to about this? She knew the answer, but still it hit her like a brick to the side of the head. She couldn't do_anything_. At least she wasn't insane, she hadn't imagined what had just happened, yet that thought- as much as she prized her mind- offered precious little comfort to her.

Suddenly a flash of light shown from him, like she'd seen in his whirling ashes and she found herself staring into familiar, if mildly confused- amber eyes. Though even in this, there was no relief for her - inside him somewhere, The Thief still lurked and she felt the tears she'd been fighting this entire time welling in her eyes, threatening to spill down her cheeks any moment.

Professor Taisho glanced around the chamber, quirking a brow as he pointed to the shattered wall and the place on the floor where he'd been laying before . . . he couldn't recall what happened next, how he came to be standing at the entrance. He lifted his gaze to her, but one look at her expression had concern overriding his confusion.

"Higurashi?" the professor said, stepping directly up to her and thoughtlessly cupped a hand against her cheek. "What's wrong?"

"Professor . . ." she tried to clamp down on the tears working their way into her voice, "I don't . . . know . . . I can't . . . ." she was going to say she couldn't tell him, that she didn't know how to explain it, but the confused look came back into his eyes as his jaw rolled and she remembered, fear slamming into her all over again, that The Thief had _tasted_ her.

Once more his eyes roved the area, much more uncertain now before bringing his gaze back up to hers. "What _happened_? Why do I . . ." he paused, and she knew already that he was looking for a way to describe it delicately, but then his eyes went cloudy, rolling upward.

"Professor!" she shrieked as he collapsed.

Kagome was frozen. She wanted to go to him but she was wary- so terrified The Thief was taking over again. She watched him for several painfully long breaths, but when there was no change- when the face she was staring down at remained unmarked and he still lay unconscious, she shakily lowered herself beside him. Her fingers felt numb and icy as she checked his pulse. It thudded, dull and slow under her touch and at last the tears spilled down her cheeks as she snatched up her walkie and ran, heading as far out and up into the tunnel as she needed until she could get a transmission to someone, _anyone _at camp.

* * *

Sango had insisted on going with the small crew that accompanied the team's RN- their on-site doctor had backed out at the last moment, too late to postpone the excavation and leaving them to scrape by with what they could find on such short notice- and had dragged Miroku along as well. When they got to the chamber she found Kagome sitting on her knees with Professor Taisho's head cradled in her lap. Her friend's blue eyes were ringed with a bright red that she somehow knew had little to do with lack of rest.

"What on earth . . . ?" Miroku said in a hushed tone, nudging his chin toward the shattered wall when Sango looked over at him.

It was a startling thing to see, but she couldn't pay attention to that just now. Kagome was nodding to something the nurse was asking as he bent to examine the professor. Now that help had arrived, the girl shuffled to her feet, stepping away from them by the time Sango reached her.

"What happened?" she breathed, turning on her heel to follow Kagome as she walked past and headed out into the temple corridor.

"I don't really know," she lied numbly. "We were talking about the translations and those anomalies and we were examining the walls and then that just . . . came down." Kagome sniffled, hugging herself tightly as Sango threw a protective arm around her shoulders. "I . . . _we_ thought everything was okay until the professor collapsed."

She stopped her carefully edited explanation right there. Kagome really _didn't_ know what happened, but if she tried to elaborate any further she would have to _actually_ start lying and given how terrible she was at that, Sango was bound to know something was up and riddle her with questions until she spilled everything. And then Sango would have her committed.

"That's _crazy_," under any other circumstances, Kagome would have giggled at Sango's choice of words given her own thoughts a mere split-second ago, "I'm so sorry, Kags. If I hadn't _had_ to see Miroku tonight you wouldn't have been here and . . . I don't know, maybe this never would have happened."

Kagome gave a lifeless nod as they climbed down the stairs toward the shore. "I just hope Professor Taisho's okay."

"I'm sure he'll be fine, Kags."

They continued descending the steps in silence and started across the shore to the tunnel.

"You know what?" Sango began quietly, she felt it doubly important to reassure Kagome because of the feeling she was getting. Not a feeling like something was _happening _between her friend and their professor- taboo and possible legal complications notwithstanding- but that she believed she noticed them looking at each other just a touch differently lately, when they thought no one else was paying attention. The type of thing they probably weren't even aware of themselves.

"Hmm?" Kagome's brain felt fuzzy suddenly.

Trying to keep pace with Sango, she only blinked hard a few times to clear vision that seemed to be clouding over. She couldn't understand why her limbs were beginning to feel so heavy and sluggish, like they were useless things just weighing her body down. Well, she thought ruefully, at least it was distracting her from what had happened in the temple.

"It's most likely just exhaustion or like . . . malnourishment, dehydration. I swear, he probably works in his sleep, when he actually gets any. He's just about the only person here getting even less sleep than y- KAGS!" Sango shouted as Kagome collapsed right out from under her arm.


	6. Wake-Up Call

**Chapter Six**

Wake-Up Call

Kagome awoke slowly, feeling as though she was moving steadily through layers of fog, each only a fraction less gauzy than the last. She tried to grasp at a memory- at what had been happening a moment ago, but she couldn't rightly recall. She remembered Professor Taisho . . . they'd been in the temple . . . ? Her brow furrowed as she fought to hang onto the image. What had they last been talking about? She couldn't . . . wait, why did she feel like something . . . _inappropriate_ had happened? That couldn't be right . . . the Professor would never-

All at once the entire, _impossible_ incident came back to her in a jumbled, discordant mass and she wrenched herself to sit upright, gasping loudly. Her eyes snapped open only to squeeze tightly shut against bright, pale light and she threw a hand up to shield her face. Something thin and stringy slapped her on the the tip of her nose and she again, cautiously this time, opened her eyes to see an IV tube dangling from the back of her hand.

Casting a squinty glance around, she realized the pale brightness was the white surroundings of the camp site's medical tent during daylight hours. This was, to her knowledge, the first time it had ever had to be used- for anything more serious than an infected insect bite, anyway. A long moment passed as she lowered her gaze, taking in the cot on which she'd been situated. Not at all far from her was another cot, empty save for the light blanket that was carefully folded and placed perfectly in the center. . . . This seemed to her like something the professor would do, which meant that until very recently he'd been here, too.

That awareness helped her mind to at last organize the things that had transpired into their proper order. Kagome remembered the professor collapsing . . . she _remembered_ . . . and the very last thing she remembered was standing with Sango at the mouth of the tunnel and then everything just _stopped_ until she'd woken up here. She could assume that the demon's possession had taken more of a toll on Professor Taisho's body than his system could really handle. But what about her? Had that . . . _thing_ taken too much from her?

_Morsel, my ass! _Maybe she could corner him with that- make it seem that he'd not fully kept his word. But then, unfortunately for her, the demon was intelligent. He'd probably argue the point that she was still _alive _when no one else he'd ever taken one of his offerings from had been left alive before, so maybe that was really something she'd rather he not to decide to rethink. Biting her lip she turned her head, squinting to read the distant, tiny print on the solution into which her IV tube was connected.

"Hey," the word- though pleasantly spoken- made her jump and she immediately heard hurrying, shuffling footsteps. "Careful now," the RN was saying, smiling gently as he placed his hands on Kagome's shoulders and eased her back down in the cot once more.

She gave an exasperated eye roll- she was terrible and downright nightmarish at being a patient. "I feel _fine."_

"That might be so," he replied, checking her IV drip before sitting himself on the edge of the cot and withdrawing a pen light from his shirt pocket. "But I still need to check and make sure you actually _are."_

She couldn't help making a sour expression as he checked her pupils and then her pulse. "So . . . ." she began slowly, "what happened?"

He shrugged as he took a stethoscope from a cabinet drawer by her IV stand and listened to her heart for a few moments. "There were a few concerns floating around. That Taisho inhaled something when that section came down on you guys. But then," he gave another non-committal shrug as he stashed the stethoscope and prepped to check her blood pressure, "I thought it was _just_ him, so that didn't seem likely. Then you _did_ collapse . . . so I was right back to considering it might be an environmental factor, but I couldn't really explain why it would affect you later unless the professor had a compromised immune system, which wasn't the case. Both of your diagnoses turned out to be really simple, pretty text-book, it was the coincidental timing that threw me off, is all."

Kagome watched numbly as he unwound the Velcro-lined cuff from her arm and set it aside. " . . . And what were those text-book diagnoses?"

"Your professor's was exhaustion in combination with mild dehydration. You . . ." he rested an elbow on his knee and folded his hands under his chin as he looked at her, "when is the last time you ate something more than some sort of energy bar, or drank anything besides that crap-tastic coffee we're stuck with here?"

"I . . ." her head was a little fuzzy, still, she was sure it had to be because it sounded like he was just accusing her of not eating or keeping herself hydrated when she knew she had been doing both. "What?"

The RN's lips folded inward as he clasped his hands- clearly he thought she was just being difficult. "You were dehydrated and showing signs of malnourishment."

She felt her eyebrows shoot up her forehead- this was a surprise to her. "I don't under- . . ." her voice trailed off as she shook her head. She and the professor had both been dehydrated? That couldn't be a coincidence- it had to be something to do with The Thief's little visit, she just couldn't figure out what, yet, since she could understand her own system being depleted, but the professor's? How did that even . . . ? Sighing heavily, Kagome let her head roll back and stared up at the blank, white ceiling of the tent. How did she expect for any of this to make sense- that she'd just think it to death and the answers would magically pop into her head? "It was so bad that I _collapsed_? You can't be serious. And how long have I been out?"

"It's been about twelve hours."

She thought her eyes would fall out of her head.

"To be fair, I don't think it was _just_ the nutritional deficiencies. It was probably made worse by the late hour, the shock to your system after a bad scare- like a wall almost coming down on your head- and the stress of the resulting situation. It's not . . . typical, but it looks like you were so worn out that after the initial fainting spell, your body just went into its natural sleep cycle."

Giving a slow nod, she figured that from his view point it all made sense, maybe it really had all been just a figment of her imagination . . . though if that was so, she was suddenly _very_ worried about her imagination. "Did Professor Taisho say anything?"

The RN shook his head. "Not really, nothing you hadn't already told me. Except that he couldn't remember how he got across the chamber. He remembers getting somehow knocked back and hitting the floor and then . . ." he shrugged, "suddenly he was standing at the entrance."

Blue eyes went wide for a moment. She'd been kind of hoping he'd forgotten that. "Is that normal? To just . . . ya know, forget like that?"

He shrugged again. "Understand that we like to ignore things that make us uncomfortable. Taisho is a very organized and in-control person, unfamiliar with not comprehending his surroundings due to something unforeseen like disorientation. It's entirely possible he simply blocked out the feeling, only allowing himself to recall the moment when he regained his spacial orientation."

She heaved another sigh. There didn't seem to be very much at all she could do about things- at least not at the moment. She'd have to bide her time and . . . well, she didn't really know _what_ then, but she'd figure something out. "Um, can I go now?"

He checked her IV solution again before giving a half-nod and standing. "Just give it until this one's finished. I'd like to be sure you've replenished as much of your fluids as possible. One last thing . . . you're positive that no debris hit you?"

"Yes, _positive_, why?"

"You have a bruise on the back of your neck that looks pretty recent."

She couldn't mask her confusion as she raised a hand to run her fingers lightly over the skin there. It was a little tender and she recalled suddenly- and _quite_ vividly- the feel of The Thief biting down on her neck. She repressed a shudder and allowed her eyes to drift closed for a moment as she pushed the memory away. Kagome hated herself for actually feeling relieved that it had been mistaken for a bruise, and not recognized for what it really was. How would she explain a recent human bite mark on the back of her neck, after she'd been alone with Professor Taisho for an hour, without getting either of them in trouble?

She forced a small gulp down her throat, averting her eyes. "I-I . . . uh, honestly can't . . . recall anything."

"Don't feel guilty, what happened wasn't your fault," he said gently and again she found unbelievable relief in being misunderstood.

"Uh . . . thanks," she muttered slowly with a nod and he nodded in response before turning on his heel to exit the tent, leaving her alone.

For a long, quiet few minutes she simply stared after the man. What was his name? Hojo . . . ? Mojo . . . ? Something like that. She troubled herself with little thoughts- like what the RN's name was or how much work she'd already missed and why the hell in the whole of the Latin American countries did they not have decent coffee _here-_ to drive away bigger, scarier problems; like what on earth was she going to do about The Thief? What if he was still around when they got back to Japan? What if he decided morsels weren't enough and he wanted her to . . . NO! Kagome shook her head vigorously, the corners of her mouth pulling into a deep frown.

She was _not_ going to think about that right now. Whenever she pondered answer-less questions she teetered on obsessing to a point of insanity, this was something she'd understood about herself for a very long time. There _were_ answers to this, she knew there were, but she didn't have them yet, nor any idea how to get them, so it was as good as said answers not existing at all. Her frown only deepened as she turned her gaze on her IV drip . . . stupid bag was still half-full, she was going to be here for_ever_.

"Even if I were your boss," she heard and turned her head to see Professor Taisho at the tent's entrance- the sight of him forced an odd mix of warm relief and chilling fear to wash through her, "I still wouldn't know whether to thank you for not letting my head get caved in my a falling wall or fire you for being uncharacteristically dumb enough to not take proper care of yourself."

Not missing a beat, she pointed to the empty cot beside hers. "Pot calling the kettle black? You were diagnosed with dehydration, too."

A silver brow quirked. "Touche." He slowly strolled closer, pausing deliberately by her feet and she batted away the impression that he'd been worried about her. "This incident has made me think that perhaps . . . I should send you back to Japan."

Kagome bolted upright instantly, a dozen thoughts all colliding in her mind. What if the Thief thought she'd willingly abandoned her deal with him and took it out on Professor Taisho? What if it tried something with Sango or Ayame? What if it killed someone all because she wasn't here? . . . And oh, sweet gods, how bad would being kicked off the excavation look on her academic records? "Y- you can't!"

His brows inched ever so slightly up his forehead. "I most certainly can."

"But why? It'll look like I'm being punished and I didn't do anything wrong."

The professor's mouth pulled tight at the corners and she recognized that look- he was thinking it over. "That's true, but I'll smooth it over- see that you still receive full credits for the internship."

She couldn't believe that _these_ words were coming out of Professor Taisho- suddenly it wasn't about anything to do with The Thief. "You can't be serious. That's like giving someone permission to cheat on their finals. Why would you do that? I deserve to be here, professor!"

He let out a short, quiet sigh of mild exasperation. "Yes, you do. But _I _am the one who is responsible for you. If I can't count on you taking care of yourself, then I can't let you remain here, I'm sorry."

Stubbornly ignoring her IV, Kagome folded her arms under her breasts. "Well fine, but if that's going to be how it is than you need to send yourself back home, too."

Again his eyebrows lifted, but this time it made for an eloquent expression from which she read- as easily as if he'd opened his mouth to speak the words- _I beg your pardon._

"It would be only fair, since you got half the same diagnosis as I did. That being said," she pointedly used one of his favorite phrases, "if I have to go home based on the grounds that I'm not taking care of myself than you should have to go, too."

Professor Taisho made a lightly pained face. "Why didn't it stick in my mind that you already said that? What ever happened to confidentiality?"

"That's a doctor-patient thing, I don't think it applies to RNs."

Amber eyes narrowed just a hint at that. "Damn." A long moment passed before he let out a sigh, smoothing a hand against his tied-back silver hair. "You can stay on two conditions. The first is that this is _never_ to happen again. You are to have a water bottle with you at all times."

She gave a quick, emphatic nod.

"Two . . . on our next resupply run you will have yourself checked by the town's doctor."

This time it was Kagome's eyebrows that crept upward. "That means you'll be seeing this doctor, too . . . right?"

The skin beneath his eyes pinched, wondering just when he'd become so powerless in this situation. "I suppose it does."

She nodded slowly and he nodded back, still wearing a mildly confused expression as he turned to leave, but then- almost angry at herself for it- Kagome remembered something. "Professor?"

"Hmm?"

"Before you collapsed, you were saying something . . . do you remember what you were talking about?"

He paused to glance at her over his shoulder. "Unfortunately no, not really. I think I was still in a bit of a daze at the time."

They shared another nod and then he was gone. She laid back in her cot again, her gaze fixed on that slow dripping of her IV. She felt a little more of that strange, misplaced-seeming relief, misplaced because she couldn't imagine that this sort of luck was going to hold out.

It might not have seemed as though she had any luck at all, but Kagome knew she hadn't seen the last of The Thief- and she didn't have the faintest clue when_ that _would happen, either- and she couldn't help worrying that he was going to make another slip and she'd find herself scrambling for an explanation to something that shouldn't be. Like . . . the professor waking to find the taste of a woman on his tongue. She groaned at herself and buried her face in her hands. Thank the gods fate was being kind to her . . . for now . . . even if it was only on the little things.

* * *

It was the next evening when Kagome was sitting cross-legged on the forest floor at the edge of camp. Freshly relieved from her cataloging duties, she was busying herself with a sort of side-project Professor Taisho had tasked her with- rendering the strange jars that had been hidden behind that wall. His own memory he feared to be compromised and he wanted to see what they had looked like sooner than their painstaking reconstruction would make possible. Even before a shadow was cast across the page, she knew someone was slowly approaching her. She set her pencil aside and looked up, raising a hand to shield her eyes from the still-bright rays of the setting sun. Sango stood there, a distant and worried look on her face.

Quickly Kagome shuffled her sketchbook out of her lap and stood, hurrying over and grabbing her friend by the elbows. "Sango, what is it, what's wrong?"

For a long moment Sango wouldn't meet her gaze, but at last brown eyes lifted to meet blue. "Kags, we're close, right?"

Kagome felt her brow furrow. At first she thought Miroku had done something stupid and upset Sango, but what would that ever have to do with how close she thought they were? "Of course we are. Sango, I don't-"

"C- 'cause you'd tell me, right? You'd tell me if someone was like . . . hurting you, right?."

The words made Kagome's heart drop into her stomach. ". . . What?"

"If someone was doing something to you, you'd tell me so I could help you, wouldn't you?"

Finally, Kagome forced herself to lie. "Of course I would."

Slowly nodding, Sango averted her gaze again, lightly taking a hold of Kagome's wrist and turning on her heel to start toward the AV tent. "Okay, then . . . I am going to need you to explain something to me, 'cause I . . . don't understand."

Kagome felt numb throughout her entire body as she was dragged into the tent and lightly shoved into a folding chair. She didn't know what was worse, not knowing what had Sango so upset, or that Sango wouldn't look at her, even as she queued up something on the audio feed and took the headphones in her hands.

"Okay, um . . . I was going through some of the tape from one of the other altar rooms and I thought I heard something real low, like in the background, but it . . . it was during hours when no one was supposed to be at the site." Kagome's heart- still in her stomach- started to ice over, spreading a chill through her midsection as Sango set the headphones on her. "So I did a little tweaking and heard . . . something that must've been echoing over from that other chamber that you and . . . Professor Taisho were in."

Blue eyes closed over sudden, frightened tears as she heard the crashing of the wall all over again. She heard herself scream for the professor . . . there was muted conversation that she couldn't really decipher, but it wasn't as though she needed to . . . more muted discussion and then . . . the low but unmistakable sound of her own gasp. Kagome bit her lip to keep it from trembling as she heard the first distinct words, oddly clear despite the muffled effect of distance.

"_All you need do . . . is come for me, little priestess._"

The inside of her throat felt thick and raw and rubbery as she forced a gulp, unable to stop a tear that escaped at the sound of her own involuntary moaning echoing in her ears. More muffled talk followed, only a few scattered words audible, but it sounded . . . it sounded dangerously like Professor Taisho was threatening her.

The recording stopped and Kagome opened her eyes slowly and reluctantly as Sango pulled the headphones off of her. For a long time she couldn't look up, but at last she did, her blue eyes baring a watery sheen and beginning to show a tinge of red.

"I never thought Professor Taisho would be the type to . . ." Sango took a deep breath, pacing herself as she set the headphones aside and dropping her voice to a whisper. "I'm going to scrub this, and no one else will ever hear that again, I want you to know that. But . . . I just don't understand. I mean, if something _happened_ with you two, fine, these things happen, but you didn't tell me and I always thought you'd . . . confide in me. But I see your face now and . . . Kags, please. Did he force himself on you or something?"

"What?" Kagome almost couldn't believe what she was hearing- questionable recording notwithstanding- whispering back, "The professor would never do something like that!"

"Okay then," Sango's expression became deeply wounded. "So then how long has this thing between you guys been going on? Is that why you _really_ felt bad you got picked for the trip and not Kikyou?"

_"What?_" Now Kagome _really_ couldn't believe what she was hearing. "Sango . . ." she shook her head, breaking into a mournful laugh as she halfheartedly wiped at her nose and her cheek, "I'm _not _having an affair with Professor Taisho."

"Then what is going on, Kags, 'cause _that _is pretty damned sure what this sounds like."

"I know," Kagome muttered back miserably, folding her arms around herself and pulling her legs up onto the chair. "I want to tell you, I do . . . but," she paused, shaking her head, "I . . . don't think you'll believe me. Hell, I was there and I barely believe the mess I'm in myself."

Sango blindly reached back, pulling up a second chair and snapping it open to set it before Kagome and seat herself. "The mess you're in?" she echoed, leaning forward a little and resting her hands on Kagome's knees. "Look, just . . . please just tell me. I may not be able to help you, but . . ." she forced aside a sniffle- she'd never seen Kagome so very, very upset it was heart-wrenching for Sango to witness this from the girl, "but," she said again, "I promise that whatever it is . . . I'll _believe_ you."

For a long, painful, silent few moments Kagome simply stared at Sango before giving into a nod and leaning close to whisper the entire story into her friend's ear.

After she was done, she leaned back again, looking into scared, confused brown eyes. "I knew it," Kagome said with another sad, humorless laugh as she shook her head, "you think I'm crazy."

"No, Kags," Sango replied, not even sparing a moment to think it over. "I do believe you, I _swear_ it." She stopped to draw in a breath, looking suddenly on the brink of tears herself. "I just have _no_ idea what we're going to do about it."


	7. Breaking Myth

**Chapter Seven**

Breaking Myth

Professor Taisho's eyes narrowed ever so slightly, the skin beneath them tightening minutely, as he looked over this most recent rendering. He did recall seeing the bizarre and out of place-seeming clay containers. They _did_ look correct, but somehow- in a way that he just could not put his finger on- he felt the image to be . . . _empty_. He wasn't entirely certain why that word seemed to fit, but it was simply as though the jars were lacking in something that he, himself, could not recall seeing at the time.

"And you're positive there was nothing else? Nothing at all?" he finally asked, remaining bent over the sketch as he was.

Kagome exchanged a quick glance with Sango behind his back. They had spent the last two days going over their fabricated details. The jars seem to have been empty, they were forced to conclude that the tragic story portrayed on the temple interior was _only_some terrible ancient fairy tale- akin to a Greek myth. And the only place The Thief of Bliss existed must have been in the minds of this long forgotten tribe.

Because of the state of the chamber, they would not be able to do a proper, possibly more simple reenactment. Professor Taisho was going to go on camera and walk an imaginary audience through the incident and Kagome, because she had been there at the time- and had _not_ lost consciousness- was tasked with aiding him in this retelling. Her sketch would serve to provide the viewer with a more accurate impression of what they had seen at the _actual_ moment they had made the find.

It was also important- not only to Professor Taisho's credibility and Kagome's future prospects, but for the entire team- that they establish that neither of them had done something to cause harm to the ancient tribal artifacts.

"Yes, I'm _absolutely_ positive," she said firmly, Kagome was able to pull off fibbing if it was a _rehearsed_ stretching, or even out right breaking, of the truth. "They were most likely just ceremonial pieces and the people choose to hide the jars because of their spiritual significance to _them_ shortly before they disappeared from the area. . . . Right?" She wanted to make it perfectly clear that she was asking him if her assumption was correct, not telling him how things were.

Letting out a heavy breath, he nodded finally, straightening and rolling the page up. "Right. I suppose now we have no choice but to go and be done with this atrocity. Shall we?"

Kagome nodded in response, falling into step behind the professor. She held in a cringe when he did a slow double-take over his shoulder at Sango trailing after them.

". . . Ryoushi?"

Sango blinked up at him as she and Kagome both froze in their tracks. "Hmm?"

His brow furrowed lightly. "I was under the impression that since that section came down there have been no further visual anomalies in the recordings."

Sango forced herself not to give any telling glance in Kagome's direction. They didn't want to give Professor Taisho any reason to be suspicious. They also didn't want him to think that there was some reason they were wary of him being alone with Kagome.

"Yes, well that does seem to be the case, but I figure that if we're wrong, then I'll be right there to catch any defects as they occur so we can just re-shoot that part rather than cutting it later and having to come back just to redo one sentence or something like that." As predicted the sheer tedium of that notion had the professor giving a faint scowl- he wasn't a big fan of wasting time over anything that wasn't considered strictly essential. ". . . Oh, and Kagome had suggested that presentations along the lines of reenactments might feel less tiresome and monotonous if the camera was manned . . . you know, so that it would seem like you're explaining things to the person _behind_ the camera, rather than just the camera itself."

Sango finished with a casual shrug, ignoring that Kagome was staring daggers at her for a split-second and shaking her head vehemently. Why would Sango think she wanted some of the credit for this? Kagome just barely stopped herself in time, forcing a light, and as relaxed as she could pull off, smile as Professor Taisho turned to her with a nod. On an ideal dig, a person manning the camera would be a give-in, but as they were such a small crew it had become something considered a luxury they had learned quickly to do without, but if the professor wasn't going to question why Sango would suddenly have free time then Kagome wasn't going to draw his attention to it.

"Alright, Higurashi," he said after a moment's thought. "We'll give this a try and see how it goes."

With that, Professor Taisho was striding through camp toward the trail, Kagome and Sango following. Sango hung her head nearly the whole trek to avoid glimpsing the scowl her friend was wearing.

* * *

Sango watched the two walk through the discussion that had lead to the examination of the now-shattered section of wall. It was almost odd to her to see Kagome so at ease around Professor Taisho, knowing that _that thing_ was hiding within him somehow. She hated to think it, but she had to wonder how the girl was coping with the entire mess. Granted, she had always been quick to adapt to things and she'd had a few days to firmly set in her mind that though the professor and The Thief shared a single form, they were worlds separated from being one-and-the-same.

It was like a split-personality disorder on crack. She blinked hard a few times, trying to banish the head ache this sort of tangled thinking was likely to cause.

As they retold of Kagome handing over the translator's notes and Kagome's initial explanation to the professor of the similar positioning of the anomalies Sango got the oddest impression that they were omitting something. Not _intentionally_, but it was simply as though they were both skipping over some part of their original discussion and going directly onto the translation. Sango pushed the impression aside- they had likely figured out separately that whatever it was simply had no baring on the actual incident.

Kagome and Professor Taisho- after relating both the horrifying and tragic tribal _myth_ and their initial reactions to the tale- crossed the chamber, detailing their slow, deliberate and delicate examination of the wall. It was at this point that the professor allowed Kagome to take lead of the discussion. He stated that this was because it was drawing close to the moment when he had been rendered unconscious and so he could not be entirely positive of the moment when his cognitive memories left off and his carefully ordered mind's necessity to fill in any perceived blanks might begin.

The girl might not like being put on the spot, perhaps it was the presence of the camera, or the notion that she was aiding to shape the education of other future archeologists, which ever the reason, Higurashi Kagome was now authoritative and confident, despite an almost uncharacteristic soft-spokeness. This was the way she would hold herself when she gave lectures or spoke in front of a class. In a way, she reminded him a little of his younger self.

Kagome began by pointing out how the wall had splintered, lightly glossing over just how she and the professor had gotten out of the way just in time as that chunk of stone had slammed into the temple floor. She stepped into the small, recently cleared alcove, outlining for the imaginary future audience as well as Sango where the jars had been placed precisely and their arrangement in relation to one another. Stepping out again, she held out a hand, causing Sango to quirk a questioning eyebrow, but Professor Taisho wordlessly reached back, retrieving her rolled up sketch from the altar and placing it in her hand.

Kagome unfurled the page and explained to the camera the conversation they'd had in regards to their unusual craftsmanship with respect to the native culture's traditions. She rolled the paper up once more, clasping it in one hand as she described their quick side-step and swept her free hand outward, illustrating the manner in which the final piece had smashed down, destroying the jars so it was nearly impossible to tell what was wall and what was academically priceless artifact. She was well aware how devastating that simple accident of environment had been as she was one of the team members tasked with sorting through the tiny mountain of jagged debris and grainy dust that had been carted back to the research tents.

"Then Professor Taisho hurried back to the alcove to check the damage and, quite literally, the next thing I knew he was hitting the ground." Kagome was focused on the details of the amended time line she had worked on with Sango, running it over in her mind again and again to keep her voice from faltering or any unwanted, too-vivid, memories connected to those unchronicled moments from working their way into her head.

"I checked his pulse," she went on, "and then was preparing to exit the site to call for help when he woke up. I remember being startled and," Sango, watching Kagome like an over-protective mother hawk the entire time gave her a reassuring nod, "dropping my walkie. He had already gotten up by the time I turned around. He took a few steps and I had thought he was alright, but then he collapsed. Again, I checked his pulse and at that time I did leave to fetch assistance."

Professor Taisho nodded, a barely visible hint of a smirk pulling up one corner of his mouth. "Well, we could have been a little more vague about that last part, don't you think?"

Kagome shrugged. "I wanted to make it crystal clear that no inappropriate measures were taken at any time, Professor."

He nodded and then Sango piped up, "Well you know, I can edit that part out, if you like."

Again the professor gave a small nod. "Let's play it through and see how well it all works first, I think. One final thing, Higurashi."

"Hmm?" Her eyebrows went up a little in question.

She was relieved she had gotten through this all without so much as a trembled word, but she really just wanted to get out of here now. It wasn't as though she believed that The Thief would dare emerge when there was a witness- and it was daytime. She wasn't positive, but she hoped his visits would be nocturnal, that _had_ to be why a crescent moon was part of his name. She couldn't help that being back at, what she couldn't stop herself from thinking of as, the scene of the crime kept her feeling as though the demon would erupt from the professor at any moment.

"For the sake of the recording," he began, folding his arms across his chest, "about how much longer do you think it will be before the remnants of the artifacts are completely sorted from the rubble?"

Blue eyes widened a hint. "Oh, but Professor I am hardly any sort of expert. I would think it would be better if you were to give the time estimate."

He gave a half-nod. "You are working on that project directly and I would like to hear your best guess."

Kagome offered a small shrug. "At the moment it's only myself, Ayame and two or three others at most handling the sifting and Shippo is alternating cataloging duties with us when he can. So because it is such a painstaking process . . ." she nodded firmly, "I would say another three days, four at the outside?"

After a long and painfully silent moment, Professor Taisho responded, "I arrived at the same estimate." Amber eyes shifted toward the camera as Kagome heaved a quiet sigh of relief. "I believe that's it."

Nodding, Sango stopped the recording and began rewinding the footage. "Do you want to give this a quick review now? I can note any frames you want cut. That might actually make the editing a little less time-consuming."

He seemed to give this a moment's consideration before stepping over to Sango to watch the replay over her shoulder.

Kagome fidgeted a bit. She wanted to go, but she didn't feel entirely certain that she could fully trust that The Thief would keep his word, her hopes about the schedule he kept notwithstanding. And even if she thought he would, she understood that Sango would feel awkward about being alone with the Professor knowing what the demon was using the man's form for.

She leaned against the wall were it curved into the chamber's entry way. Distantly she could hear Dubios and Bruckner in another chamber. Then she heard something that tugged at her heart just as it set a tiny, trembling chill into the base of her spine.

It was faint and muffled, but definitely the sound of someone weeping.

Glancing over, she saw Sango and Professor Taisho distracted with going through the recording. Crossing her arms beneath her breasts, she bit deep into her lower lip, forcing herself to ignore it. The sound became more insistent, the frequency of the hiccuped cries only made the sorrow of it seem all that much deeper.

She tried to put it out of her mind, telling herself it was nothing more than a distorted noise- water dripping somewhere in the temple, or even in the outer cavern, and echoing strangely off of the walls.

But . . . her conscience was nagging at her suddenly. What if it _was_ someone crying? One of the other interns sneaking into the depths of the temple to have some place to be alone. Ayame was always worrying about the strain this long trip was putting on her relationship with her boyfriend. What was his name? . . . Ookami Kouga? If she recalled correctly, he ran track. Ayame had seemed more cranky than usual as of late, what if her call back to Tokyo on their last town run had given her bad news?

Kagome sent another quick sideways glance at the two glued to the camera's tiny viewing screen. She'd just pop out to track down the noise and be right back. If she were to find out later that it had been someone sobbing and she hadn't gone to check on them and offer a shoulder to cry on- whether it was accepted, or even welcome or not- she would never be able to forgive herself.

Leaning down subtly, she squirreled a hand-held glow rod out of her pack- thinking that her lantern would be too bulky and be noticed. The last thing she felt like dealing with was having Sango make her feel bad for having a conscience. She slipped it into her pocket and side-stepped around the entrance and out into the corridor.

She was quiet as she followed the sound down the corridor, peering into chambers and small nooks as she passed them. She didn't dare call out. Not only would that alert Sango and Professor Taisho that she'd sneaked off and make her feel like an idiot if it was just some distorted environmental sound, but that it was how people in cheesy horror movies got killed. Even beyond such foolish reasoning, she didn't want to frighten whoever it might be.

But then . . . she paused, drawing out the glow rod and cracking it to shake it into illumination and hold it out before her. After what had happened when she had last been in this temple, she wasn't certain she could consider _any_ sort of cautionary reasoning foolish. She could still hear the mournful sound echoing lightly off of the rough stone walls. Why was no one else hearing this? Her mouth pulled tight to one side as she _hmphed_ inwardly at herself, ignoring that emitting that noise was a habit she'd picked up from Professor Taisho. It was probably because she was the only one not distracted with working on something.

She reached the end of the corridor and still hadn't found anything, yet the sound persisted. A frown tugged at the corners of her lips. Perhaps she had missed something? Kagome turned on her heel, freezing instantly as she heard a sound like stone grinding against stone. Her brow furrowed as she looked over her shoulder. At the base of the wall, just behind her feet a trap door had opened.

The crying became louder suddenly as she stared into the deep blackness the door had revealed. She felt cold creeping around in the pit of her stomach- the sound couldn't be coming from down there, it just _couldn't. _Turning her head forward again, she dropped her gaze to her feet. She needed to leave, but professionally, no matter how she felt or what she was hearing, she couldn't just go back and potentially let the door close again without figuring out how it had opened. She'd not felt or seen any pressure triggers . . . and as far as they had found to this point there were no booby traps in the structure.

And what _was_ that sound?

Letting a slow breath ease out from between lightly parted lips, she lifted one foot and there, beneath her heels was the vague outline of a small diamond-shaped stone. It was so indistinct, so little that it was possible no one had noticed . . . no one had stepped on this exact spot.

Nodding slowly to herself, she set her foot back down. She was going to get the Professor and Sango _right_ now.

She took a step and immediately her legs went out from under her. Kagome hit the temple floor on her abdomen, the wind getting knocked out of her lungs. She sucked in a breath to call for help as she scrambled to get to her feet, but suddenly she was slipping backward and down through the trap door. It all happened so fast that she didn't even have time to let out a scream before she landed on some sort of dry, rustling cushioning that crinkled and crunched beneath her as she pulled herself to sit up.

It was pitch black and she realized she must have lost her grip on her glow rod when she'd stumbled. _Gods_ was she a klutz. Shaking her head at her own stupidity, she was about to stand up when she realized . . . .

The crying had stopped.

Placing a hand down to steady herself a little, she turned slowly listening intently. Her skin crawled instantly and every inch of her went numb as she felt a skeletal hand snake its way around her wrist.

* * *

A muffled and distant shriek rang out and Sango jumped. She exchanged a brief, confused glance with Professor Taisho. Another shrill scream sounded and they both turned their attention to the place where Kagome had been.

"Higurashi." Suddenly the professor was across the chamber and heading into the corridor.

Sango rushed to catch up to him and nearly collided with Bruckner and Dubios. They hurried down the corridor in time to see Professor Taisho reach the end of the passage. He stooped to pick up a seemingly discarded glow rod. The other three looked around in confusion as a hiccuping voice sounded from somewhere, but Professor Taisho was staring intently at something on the floor. He sat on his knees and brought a fist down on the strange, tiny stone diamond. The trap door grated open and the sound of hysterical sobbing filled the air.

"Higurashi!"

"Professor! I- I c-can't see!" Kagome shrieked- her mind was too numb by now to care about how unprofessional this would appear later. "There's something _down_ _here_ with me!"

Sango couldn't believe what she was seeing as the professor, seemingly without a second thought, jumped down through the trap door and she bolted forward, slamming her heel down on the little stone to keep the door from closing again. Dubios and Bruckner were right behind her, but she could only barely feel one of them bump her shoulder as they halted. They looked down into the eerie green hue of that sparsely illuminated darkness to see Professor Taisho with a supportive arm around a bawling Kagome . . . and there, on the floor barely visible from their vantage point through a heavy scattering of tattered rags and ancient, dried leaves . . . .

Sango felt her heart crash down into her stomach as she clamped a hand over her mouth. Kagome wouldn't even look at it- she couldn't, it felt like it was glaring accusingly at her.

"If the story of this place was a myth . . ." Professor Taisho said slowly, letting the girl cry into the hollow of his shoulder as he took in the disturbing visage of the skeleton chained to the floor, decayed and dehydrated bits of flesh still clinging stubbornly to bone here and there, "then why do I feel like we just found The Thief's high priest?"


	8. Sleeplessness

**Chapter Eight**

Sleeplessness

"Are you certain?"

Blue eyes barely refrained from rolling in exasperation. Kagome sat draped in a blanket on one of the now-familiar cots, her small hands wrapped around a silver and black travel mug of their wretched coffee. At least it was warm, forcing her still fear-chilled fingers to thaw a bit, whether they seemed to want to or not.

"Yes, I'm _fine_, really" she reassured Professor Taisho for . . . _oh_, she'd lost count what-teenth time this would make it.

Clearly disbelieving her repeated assessment, the professor shifted his gaze from hers to some point over her head and she knew he was pinning Hojo who'd been standing behind the cot. "Yes," the RN replied with a short laugh, "she _is_ alright, she just had a shock."

After a moment of consideration, Professor Taisho gave a stubborn nod. "Alright, alright," his eyes drifted closed and he pinched tiredly between his brows. "I'm needed back at the site to help oversee the proper removal of the remains."

"Okay," she began shrugging off the blanket, "then I'll just go see where I'm assigned for-"

"You are relieved of whatever research duties you were scheduled for until tomorrow." Kagome's face fell, but the professor wasn't finished yet. "You are to do nothing more strenuous than reading a book in your tent and you _will_ get a good night's sleep this evening."

Setting her coffee aside on the cabinet she shook her head at him. "All due respect professor, but you can't _order _someone to sleep."

A silver eyebrow quirked fractionally as Professor Taisho squared his shoulders and folded his arms across his chest. "I most certainly can and I quite believe that I just _did."_

She blinked a few times, finding issue with her unsuccessful attempts to wrap her mind around how ridiculous and stubborn he was suddenly being about this. "Wha . . . ?" Her cheeks puffed out as she forced an exhalation. "This is . . . it's . . . I'm _fine _and I'm not a child."

He replied through lightly clenched teeth, amber eyes narrowing to slits, "I never suggested you were a child, nevertheless you _are_my responsibility."

Beneath the blanket her hands curled into fists, small nails digging half-moons into her palms to keep from yelling- she didn't know why he was being so unreasonable, but it was really irritating her. She might be a good at following instructions, but being giving orders was another matter entirely. "Our resident medical professional is of the opinion that I'm alright. I should be allowed to take my whatever shifts I have tonight. Right, Hojo?"

A few seconds of strained silence passed and Kagome turned her head, looking at the RN over her shoulder. His wide brown eyes were flickering, darting from her to Professor Taisho and back again several times, his mouth open just a little. She thought he rather looked like a child who wasn't certain which parent to root for in an argument.

"Uh . . ." he finally meeped out, pausing to clear his throat uncomfortably. "Well, it isn't as though you couldn't do with a good night's rest after the week you've had, Ms. Higurashi."

Kagome squared her jaw, setting her head straight again to scowl up at Professor Taisho. His expression was calm, his brows lifted ever so minutely as though to say _You should know better than to challenge me. _She didn't know what part of this silent communication was more irksome- that he hadn't had to speak the words for her to understand what he was telling her, or that he_knew_ that he didn't have to speak it.

Scowl deepening she folded her arms under her breasts beneath the blanket, ignoring that Hojo was pretending to suddenly have business elsewhere as he scurried himself out of the tent. "If I was _already_ your colleague rather than just a future one, this might have gone very differently," she pointed out.

His brow furrowed ever so slightly at that- it almost seemed as though she thought that people only listened to him because they were intimidated by his position when he had thought she, of all people, would know better. . . . It might be true, but that didn't mean he had to like it, or even accept it . . . so he chose not to- as he saw it, people listened to him because he was simply correct so often.

"I would very much like to prove you wrong on that, but I suppose we shall just have to wait until after you get your PhD and then have another argument around a third party and see how that fares for you."

She found herself mirroring his expression, though hers was tinged with confusion rather than faintly smug self-certainty. "We are_not_ having an argument!"

He was silent, the only response being the further upward progression of his eyebrows. It was immediately after she'd spoken the words that Kagome realized she was wrong. She didn't want to admit it, but she recognized it all the same. Not only about the argument-thing; they clearly _were_ arguing, though she was clueless as to when they'd progressed to such a casual standing with one another that they would be comfortable enough to get into a verbal fight. At first she'd thought he was being somewhat uncharacteristically stubborn and even arrogant, but she understood now that he was acting this way because he was concerned about her. . . . And she was repaying that by fighting him on what he thought was best for her. She even thought he might be right about that, too- she was wasn't about to admit that, either.

Hanging her head, she at last muttered a grudging, "_Fine_."

Professor Taisho nodded sharply before turning on his heel and striding toward the tent's entrance. "See you in the _morning,_Higurashi," he called over his shoulder and then ducked outside.

* * *

Kagome's face was red by the time she finished venting, ". . . gods damned . . . overprotective son of a bi- . . . . You should have seen him! Acting like some, some . . . . overbearing fluke male mother-hen!"

For a long time Sango watched in silence, a thoughtful, if mildly amused, smile turning her lips upward at the corners. Finally Kagome turned back to face her from her final stint of pacing across the floor of their tent.

". . . What?"

Sango shrugged, unable to help the chuckle that escaped her as she pulled her feet in to sit cross-legged on her air mattress. "I didn't say anything."

"No, you didn't." Blue eyes narrowed to slivers of color and white, "You didn't, but you look like I'm not going to like what you're thinking."

"I just . . . think that perhaps _this,"_ shewiggled a finger to indicate Kagome's erratic pacing, stomping and even border-line shouting from just a moment earlier, "is a little more strenuous than reading a book."

Kagome only scowled at her as she snatched up a brush from her trunk and plunked herself down on her own mattress and began tugging it angrily through the long, dark waves of her hair.

"Okay," Sango hissed with a roll of her eyes, caving under her friend's scathing look and defaulting to the least anxiety-inducing aspect of Kagome's problems at present. "I also- sorry to say it- but I think it's oddly sweet."

For a moment Kagome's head wobbled on her neck as though she was having some sort of fit. "What are you _talking_ about?" she demanded, blinking rapidly a few times.

"Uhh . . ." Sango stumbled mentally, trying to phrase it without overstepping any boundaries or sticking her foot in her mouth- she was getting the feeling that pointing out what she was seeing to Kagome before the girl realized it for herself would be too jarring to her . . . and she had enough to deal with already. "I just mean that he must clearly value your being here, 'cause well . . . like you said, he sees you basically being his equal someday, right?"

Kagome offered a vague nod as she continued roughly, if absently, brushing her hair. "Something like that, but he kind of said it about all of us."

"Right, but he said it directly to _you. _Now do you really think that's a conversation he'd have ever had with me or Shippo or Ayame or- not present, but more on par with your crazy academic skills- Kikyou?"

The look that came into Kagome's eyes told Sango that her thought processing ability had hit a brick wall. "What are you getting at?"

"I'm not getting at anything." Sango fibbed just a little as she shook her head before tying her hair up into a ponytail, going on as she started digging around in one of her duffel bags for a bottle of nail polish, "I just think he's . . . like you said being overprotective of you, but it's only 'cause he . . . sees you as being like he was back when, so he . . . connects with you maybe in a way that he can't with the rest of us."

That was a logical conclusion and didn't seem to offend Kagome's delicate sensibilities in any way. Kagome inwardly breathed a sigh of relief- she'd honestly forgotten about her little crush during all that had happened recently, but with Sango's awkward verbal nudging she'd thought she had unconsciously given herself away. If she was to listen to that annoying little voice in the back of her mind, it almost felt as though Sango was . . . hinting at something, but that couldn't be. What Kagome imagined Sango was thinking couldn't be right because Professor Taisho would never see her that way. Never, it was simply too . . . unprofessional.

Kagome gave a hopeless little sigh as she put down her hairbrush. Perhaps she'd been better off having forgotten, since remembering _that_ brought to mind the other situation she was having with the professor . . . _sort of _with the professor, anyway. Her eyes drifted closed for a moment. A demon, a skeleton, a _completely_ inappropriate infatuation . . . it would be a wonder if she was still sane by the time they returned to Japan.

"Sango?"

"Hmm?" She didn't look up, focused on the metallic purple paint she was brushing onto her toenails.

"You'll tell me if you think I'm starting to lose it, right?"

Brown eyes shot up so quickly the girl almost dragged a streak of polish across her entire foot. "Oh, hun! I know things seem a little . . . bizarre right now, but I told you, we'll figure it out, okay? You and me, I'm not letting you go through this alone, okay?"

"It's just," Kagome shook her head, her eyes lowering sadly, it was good to have someone there for her, but there was no way Sango could actually share the burden completely with her, "with what just happened . . . it's going to be that much harder to pretend that . . . you know, that _other_ thing isn't going on."

Sango nodded, capping the nail polish and setting it aside for the moment. Kagome didn't need to elaborate. She knew that the unfortunate- and quite frankly disturbing- discovery of the high priest's remains would lead to many in depth discussions and a second comb-through of the temple for anymore secret doors, scanning the site with equipment they'd at first thought they wouldn't need to employ and the whole nine yards. The constant out-loud thinking over where this man masquerading as a demon was laid to rest would force Kagome's mind to work over her encounter with it again and again. And she was afraid that at some point Professor Taisho would realize that she was holding something back . . . and then she'd cave and blab the entire insane-appearing story and he'd have them both checked into a psych ward.

"I know this isn't easy . . . like at _all, _but we just stick to our story- there were no ashes, maybe the cult was too afraid they would be found and desecrated so they probably stashed them somewhere else- like the Egyptians did with the Valley of the Kings. And if you ever get the feeling that he thinks you're not telling the whole truth you just give me a signal and I'll . . . I don't know, kick over a camera or something and distract everyone."

Kagome laughed in spite of herself at the mental picture. "Okay."

Sango's eyebrows darted up just a bit. "In this together, right?"

Nodding, Kagome rubbed her hands tiredly over her face- perhaps the professor really was right, she would sleep tonight. "Right. Hey, you have that dark green polish in there?"

"Pfft, of course," Sango replied, immediately digging through her bag again. Keeping Kagome distracted was the only thing she could really do at the moment.

* * *

No matter how she'd felt a few hours earlier, Kagome found herself tossing and turning. She listened to Dominique's soft, sleepy breaths and Sango's hushed snoring for what felt like an eternity. She couldn't recall ever having bouts of insomnia before coming here, unless night-long study sessions fueled by bottles of iced espresso counted- and she wasn't sure they did.

Rolling over for the umpteenth time, she dug her watch out from under her pillow. She was hoping and praying that only a short time had slipped past, that it had only felt like an eternity in her mind, so that she might still get a good solid four or five hours of sleep. Pressing the light on the face plate she frowned deeply at the digits staring back at her. _Three A.M_. . . . she _had_ to get to sleep somehow.

She pulled herself to sit up and shifted out of her sleeping bag. She'd take a shower, maybe that was what she really needed after the day she'd had. Nodding, she trudged off of her mattress and opened her trunk, retrieving her towel and bathing items. Kagome hung her head back and groaned mutely as she grabbed a lantern and sneaked out of the tent- she could already feel the rich, warm lather of shampoo sinking into her hair and scalp. It would be so pleasant and relaxing, that _had_ to help her rest.

It was so quiet as she walked through the camp. Every tent was dark and she found herself envying the rest of the team, all sleeping so soundly. Pausing, she took a moment to breathe in deeply. It was so peaceful that she felt like she was the only person in the entire world. Her eyes raised to the dark trees lining the camp. Even with everything that had happened, she was going to hate leaving here. What was it, another five weeks? Sighing deeply, she continued on toward the utility stations.

No one else was about, but she locked the door anyway, reaching past the dark plastic curtain to start the shower before stripping down and grabbing her shampoo. Kagome stepped in and pulled the curtain closed, immediately calming as the spray of hot water hit her skin. She spent a long time soaping her hair and rinsing before reaching out to grab her conditioner only to nearly trip over the bottle. Blinking, she looked down at it for a moment. She must have knocked it over and just not heard it under the shower.

Frowning at herself, she simply picked up the bottle and conditioned her hair. Not only was she feeling like a klutz now, but like she might also be forgetful and possibly hard of hearing, too. Rinsing her hair again, she set the bottles blindly on the sink and stood in the water for a long time thinking over everything. What was she going to do when she got back to Japan? She didn't think she'd figure anything out before they got home and that had to mean The Thief would be going with them.

Suddenly she felt herself yanked backward, a warm, large hand clamping over her mouth as an arm wound around her waist to pull her against a warm, bare body. Despite the absurdity of screaming with a hand- and the shower- muffling the sound, she attempted to draw in a breath.

"Hello, little priestess," she heard the familiar even cadence as the words were whispered against her wet hair.

Unreasonably, this had a somewhat calming effect. It wasn't as though knowing it was _him_ was calming to her, simply that at least she now understood what was happening- she might not like the situation, but at least she knew what he was here for- easing the inherent fear of some unknown person having sneaked into her shower. Then she recalled . . . she'd locked the door.

Reaching a hand up, she gingerly tugged at his fingers until he slid them down from her lips. "How did you get in here?"

"Mmm," he murmured into her ear, taking a step forward so they were both under the spray of hot water. "Interestingly enough, this Sesshomaru has a knowledge of picking rudimentary locks, such as the one on this station's door."

She tried to ignore the feeling of his fingertips beginning to trace over her water-slicked skin as she spared a moment to puzzle over that. Of course the professor had had an entire life before she'd crossed his path, there was likely a myriad of odd skills he possessed that she would probably think he simply shouldn't have.

He slipped his hands beneath her arms and raised them, urging her to link her fingers behind his neck. From there he traced his fingertips back down along her arms and ribcage to cup her breasts, the very edges of the claws on his thumbs dragging over her nipples in teasing circles.

Kagome really hoped his lack of clothing didn't mean that he was planning on asking from her more than she was willing to give to him.

"You . . ." her voice trembled and she started again, _hating_ that this felt good- it wasn't only his hands on her breasts, either, but the feel of his skin pressed against hers, of her arms up around him, for a moment she thought she could fool herself into thinking it was Professor Taisho if she _really_ tried, but she didn't want to forget that this wasn't him, that he would never do these sordid things to her. "You know you took too much last time, right?" He _had_ to know, since he had access to the professor's thoughts.

He gave a shrug and she let her eyes drift closed, a small, ragged breath escaping her at the feel of his muscled flesh sliding beneath hers- she was supposed to be terrified of him, so why was she enjoying this so _very _much?

"A miscalculation on my part. You see," he lowered himself to the shower stall floor, moving her with him and sat, positioning her to sit between his parted legs, his length pressing firmly against the small of her back. "It has been so long since I have had to restrain myself. That was an accident."

The demon shifted sideways a little so that he could lean back against one of the thick plastic walls. She let her head roll to one side between her upraised arms, almost expecting it when he swept her hair aside to brush his lips over her throat. She could feel herself responding to his touch _so_ strongly, could feel the warm moistening between her legs that had nothing to do with the shower. He was using his power on her, that _had _to be why she couldn't seem to connect with her fear of him or be disgusted with herself for enjoying the feel of having his bare body wrapped around hers.

"If you do that again Professor Taisho will send me away and then you would risk getting found out because you'd have to find an alternate source of sustenance."

"Hmph," the rush of his breath over her damp skin sent a shiver through her. "Yes, I am aware," he trailed a hand down, claws lightly tracing over her ribs to her abdomen, across the curve of her hip. "I wonder, though, why you would warn me."

Kagome held in a trembling breath at the sweet, tingling sensation of his claws and fingertips moving delicately along her inner thighs, the hand at her breast continuing to tease and lightly pinch her nipple. "Because I don't want you taking it out on the professor if a circumstance beyond my control makes me break our deal."

He nodded, scrapping his teeth gently over her earlobe for a moment before speaking. "I will be more restrained in the future, but in order to make that possible, I will need . . . ."

The pause made her nervous, hoping that he wasn't about to follow that with a demand for sex. She wanted to protect Professor Taisho, certainly, but she didn't believe she had it in her to go _that_ far. He withdrew the hand that had been stroking her thighs and held it beneath the spray of the shower, moving it side to side slightly as though he was examining the thin, pulsing streams of water.

"You will need _what?_ You said you would only take morsels- you gave me your _word_. Oh, wait, let me guess, that doesn't mean anything to a demon?"

"As I recall," he slid both hands down her sides to her hips, grasping them to shift her slightly and she couldn't help the sweet shock it sent rippling through her, or the blush that flared in her cheeks, at the feel of his bare, hardened length pressing _so _tightly against her, "I said I was taking a morsel _then_. I said I would not take you as a sacrifice and if your concern is for your maidenly state, well, I see no reason to ruin that as of yet."

"You know I'm a virgin?"

She could feel him nod as he slid his hands between her legs and parted them. "I knew it the moment I tasted you. Consider it a . . . lust-demon talent, if you will. I was going to say that in order for your offerings to take less of a toll on your body- _and_ his- the offerings themselves must be stronger."

"I'm not sure I understand." If he wasn't asking for sex, than she wasn't sure how that was going to be possible.

Again he nodded, brushing his lips over the soft bit of her throat just below her ear as he spoke, "Well, my delectable little priestess, this is to say," he slid two fingers down along smooth feminine skin- he had needed to access this Sesshomaru's knowledge of current world culture to understand that the lack of hair meant she performed a bizarre ritual of self-beautification called _waxing-_parting the folds there, he exposed that precious little bead of flesh to a single pulsing stream of water, delighting in the shocked gasp it forced from her. "I _need_ to make you come harder."

"Oh my gods," she blurted out, her hips jerking instantly and she tried to skitter out from beneath it- the constant warm, wet thumping against that most sensitive spot was _too_ much, she was sure her body just couldn't take this.

"No, no," he murmured, winding his legs over hers to keep her pinned there. "What you felt last time was _truly_ only a morsel of what I can offer you. You know the grounds of our deal, the least you can do for yourself is enjoy it, do you not think so?"

She didn't want to nod, didn't want her hips to keep jerking, lifting her again and again in rhythm with the tapping water, didn't want to enjoy anything he had to offer her, ever. He took her earlobe between his teeth, delicately scraping the sharp edges over it again and brought his free hand back up to her breasts, alternately dragging the tips of his claws over one of her nipples, then the other and back again. It seemed nearly against her will that her fingers were curling into the hair at the back of his head.

The pulse was almost numbing as it continued to beat over her, her rocking hips moving her to work against his length behind her and she was surprised to hear him let out a rushed breath. She could feel him begin to rock behind her, pressing himself more tightly to her, rubbing his length over her wet skin each time she moved back against him.

"_This_," he hissed out between lightly clenched teeth, "makes me so glad I chose you, little priestess."

"Wha . . ." she couldn't think straight, from the pulsing between her legs to the claws tickling over her nipples to the feel of him warm, hard and throbbing, sliding against her. "What do you mean?"

He let out a pained groan, his head falling back from hers to tip against the wall, the thrusting of his hips becoming sharper. "It is more than what I _need_, yet not more than you can spare."

She laughed roughly, she couldn't help it- she knew she should feel ashamed for enjoying this, but she _just_ couldn't . . . there was an odd sort of freedom in knowing this was all he wanted from her, that it didn't matter how he saw her. A sweet aching ripple ran through her as her body began to tense. The Thief uttered another harsh, needy sound, rocking almost violently against her and he slid his hand down from her breast, wrapping his arm around her waist and taking the burden of movement away from her as he forced her forward and back again and again- forward beneath the pulsing beat of the water, back against his sliding length.

Kagome gasped, feeling herself at the edge of the orgasm. "You mean if you come, too, it's stronger?"

"Oh, yes," he muttered, biting down on the back of her neck as he had that first time.

She moaned loudly, oddly grateful for the muffling effect of the shower as the orgasm tore through her, dancing and spiraling through her system as he continued rocking her beneath the spray of water. He made a gruff, grunting noise and she felt almost distantly an odd shifting and rippling of the warm skin of his length as it pressed against her. She could feel it on her skin, could feel him coming as she did and it only added to the delicious warmth forcing trembling shudders through every inch of her.

As it began to slip away she found herself trying to keep her body tense, to hold onto it, but it slid further, leaving her to warm, thundering aftershocks as she regained her ability to move on her own, writhing against him. His head fell forward to rest on her hers and she could feel the rushing of his ragged breath over the side of her throat once more.

It seemed a long moment passed as the simply lay there against each other beneath the spray of the water. Finally she extracted herself from him- regardless of freedoms or enjoyment, she didn't want to feel peaceful around him at all _ever_. She stood, taking a moment to rinse off her back and turned off the faucet, reaching out toward the sink and snatching up her towel. She refused to look back at him, refused to see what the professor's body would look like, sprawled naked on the shower floor, wet and glistening and spent.

"You're not going to let him come back like _this_ are you?" She asked numbly, hating herself instantly, just like last time, only now it was because she couldn't deny how much she'd just enjoyed that.

The demon cracked a lazy smile. "No, I have more forethought than that. To do so would have this Sesshomaru asking far too many questions." He dragged himself up to stand and pushed the curtain aside, letting the cooler air rush over his skin before grabbing a towel he'd clearly brought with him. "I will dry off and lay this body to rest and he will wake up in a few hours wondering why he feels rested and yet like he barely slept."

She gave a slow nod, wondering just what a therapist would think of her situation, as she wound her damp hair into a bun on the back of her head and struggled into her clothes. "Please," she muttered, sparing a moment to glance over her shoulder at him against her better judgment and freezing up without meaning to.

The Thief was holding his towel wrapped low around his hips, wet silver hair hanging in long, dripping tendrils past his waist and his golden olive skin . . . damn, but Professor Taisho must have a gym membership, his lean muscles screamed staunch dedication. The demon raised his eyes to meet hers, the glow in them still fading and his smug, faintly amused, barely-there smirk brought her crashing back to the moment and she snapped her head back around.

"Please _what_, little priestess?" He murmured, just the slightest trace of humor edging around his usual icy and bored tone.

Kagome shook her head sharply a few times, placing her hand on the knob as she quickly dumped her bath items onto her towel with the other and bundled them up to tuck it all under her arm. "Please don't leave until I've been in my tent a few minutes." She hung her head, going on- there didn't seem much point in censoring herself since he was already well familiar with her weakness. "In the dark it would be too easy to mistake you for the professor and I just don't think I could take seeing him so soon after . . . after you using him like this, not again."

It was sadly true- when he had faded and left poor Professor Taisho standing there so confused that first time she'd thought she was going to have some sort of breakdown. She didn't bother adding to it that the professor wasn't the only one The Thief was _using_during his little visits, but she was pretty sure he was already well aware of that part. She heard the muffled rustling of thick cotton and she didn't dare to look, aware that he'd likely loosed the towel to begin drying himself and she didn't think she could handle seeing anymore of Professor Taisho's bare, droplet-speckled body at the moment.

"Very well," was all he said.

With an exaggerated nod, she cracked open the door and peered around it. Camp was still as quiet and as peaceful as she'd left it. Reaching back one last time, she grabbed her lantern in her free hand and slunk out, pushing the door closed again with her back before dragging her feet through camp. She was trying to wrap her spontaneously exhausted mind around what had just happened- perhaps this was why couples in TV shows always seemed to have sex right before going to bed. She felt her fear finally, but it wasn't what she was expecting- it wasn't fear of him, but of herself- of the fact that she couldn't lie to herself and pretend she hadn't just enjoyed that. And she felt angry . . . again, it was directed inward. The Thief was a _demon_, it seemed a waste of time to be angry at him for being what he was- she _still_ didn't like him, she _still_ wanted him gone- but she could be angry with herself without feeling like it was a waste. She was supposed to be disgusted by him, so why on earth had she just let him see how much she was enjoying what had just happened?

Sighing heavily, she hung her head again, slowing her steps a little. Either that freedom-thing she'd thought earlier was correct . . . or it was an excuse . . . because the demon had taken Professor Taisho's form, of _all_ people. Anyone else- Miroku, Shippo, Dubios- and she'd probably still be back in the shower, having kicked him out first so she could scrub her skin 'til it was raw under near-scalding water.

Kagome picked up her pace again only to halt entirely, her head snapping up and around to lock her gaze on the tree line, a shiver dancing its way up her spine. The dark outline of the trees was no more than blobby shapes of black-on-black and she switched off the lantern, closing her eyes and counting to ten. She opened them again, the forced adjustment of her vision to the darkness helping her make out more detail and she slowly moved her gaze to follow to the line of trees the rounded the camp site.

She wasn't surprised when she didn't see anything, but that did nothing to appease what she was feeling now. Frowning to herself, she shook her head and continued on to her tent, not bothering to switch her lantern back on.

In as close to complete silence as she could manage she zipped the tent shut, stowed her things, tossed her towel across the lid of the trunk to dry and climbed back into her sleeping bag. Snuggling her damp head down against her pillow, she tried to assess this new, more immediate problem.

The Demon was already on the loose, but had been in the utility station, so at least she knew where he was . . . the crying in the temple, she was certain that had been the priest, leading her to him, she had to assume that he was now at rest. This still left her two things to ponder over even as she felt blessed sleep edging around her brain and softening everything.

She'd never felt the sort of spiritual sensitivity that had seemed to now be so constant for her before she had set foot in this jungle- she'd already grudgingly accepted that to be why no one else had heard the spectral weeping. What was it about this place that was doing that to her? It couldn't just be the demon, because if everything that had happened meant that more of the world's ancient myths about demons were true, too, than Japan had been crawling with them only a short few centuries ago. She wasn't crazy and she wasn't imagining things, she knew that now, though she did have to wonder if these were the sort of things mediums felt all the time.

Kagome pulled the sleeping bag more tightly around herself as she moved onto the second thing she had to turn over in her mind. Why had she just felt, so _very _deeply and unnervingly that it made her shiver just a little even in hindsight, like she was being _watched_?


	9. Acceptance of the Inevitable

**Chapter Nine**

Acceptance of the Inevitable

"Stockholm Syndrome!" Sango blurted, startling a still-sleepy Kagome back into the world of the unfortunately awake.

Hissing as her own sudden movement sloshed some hot coffee out of her travel mug and unto her fingers, Kagome scowled at her instantly apologetic friend as she switched the cup to her other hand and shook the liquid from her lightly burning skin. ". . . Run that by me again?"

When they'd first dragged themselves out of their sleeping bags that morning, Kagome had shot Sango a look that had been long understood between them to mean _I need to talk to you_. The reply had been a subtle nod and they'd taken their time getting ready, making what cross-culture chit-chat they could with Dominique as she dressed and bid them goodbye to begin her day. Never one to trust that people would always be gone when you really needed them to be- a forgotten this or that which had the person dashing back in and hearing things they shouldn't- Sango rushed to the entrance and parted the flaps of the tent just enough to peer out and confirm that the girl was already headed to fetch her breakfast.

Nodding again, she hurried back and dropped herself to sit cross-legged on Kagome's mattress and propped her chin on her fists, staring up at her friend as Kagome rushed through pouring bottled water and fresh- if still acrid- grounds into their trusty, battery operated coffee maker. Turning her face away- both to hide the hideous blush that would be flaring in her cheeks and because she felt certain she'd never be able to get through what she had to say with someone, anyone, staring at her- Kagome told Sango what had happened only a few short hours ago.

By the time she looked forward again, Sango was leaned back on an elbow and fanning herself lightly with one hand. "Oh . . . my_gods . . . "_ was all she said after a long moment.

Giving a nod and chewing furiously on her lower lip, Kagome replied, "I'm pretty sure that's exactly what I said at . . . some point. It's really this fuzzy," she paused to let out a yawn, "_unfortunately_ hot jumbled memory of limbs and touching and-"

"And Professor Taisho's water-glistened nude body?" Sango offered in a tone that mocked helpfulness as she tried, unsuccessfully, to hide a grin.

Kagome uttered a short, strangled cry as she buried her face in her hands. She'd slept relatively peacefully after she'd managed to put her troubled thoughts and self-hatred aside, but she still felt tired. Thankfully she was aware that this time it was due only to how little sleep she'd gotten and not to The Thief over-feeding.

"Sango, please," she finally said, snatching up her mug and filling it nearly to the brim, "this is serious. What's _wrong_ with me?"

"Oh . . . oh, honey, nothing's wrong with you." Sango stood and came around to the folding table to begin fixing her own cup. "Maybe . . . I don't know, but maybe in a way . . . that . . Thief thing is right."

Kagome's eyebrows shot half-way up her forehead. "Ex_cuse_ me?"

Sango set her mug down and made a placating gesture with her hands. "Alright, alright, let me explain before you get all nutty on me."

Managing a tired nod, Kagome sat on the edge of her mattress, not sipping her coffee, but holding it clasped in both hands beneath her nose, hoping the horrifying aroma alone would be enough to jolt her awake and she wouldn't have to actually ingest it.

"Okay. Now, we can't do anything about him yet, right?"

Expression souring, Kagome nodded again. "Right."

"So until we figure out how to get rid of him you're stuck doing . . . crazy-hot shower porn scenes with Prof-"

"Sango!"

"I'm sorry, okay, I mean . . . I wasn't even there and I thought it was . . . never mind, you don't want to hear that." Kagome could only give an aggravated nod in agreement with Sango's words as she fought to keep her bleary eyes open. "My point is that you have no real options right now as for how to deal with him. He might be right in that since you don't have a choice, you might as well enjoy it. You're a little like Professor Taisho, if you think about it. You don't like wasting time on non-necessities, hence why, like you said, you think it's stupid to bother being angry with that thing 'cause he's a demon and they're supposed to be all mean and evilly and selfish."

Kagome managed another grudging nod as she allowed her eyes to drift closed. Shrugging, Sango went on, "That being said, maybe part of you understood that The Thief was kind of right about _that_ and your mind just sort of said 'to hell with it' and gave in."

As she let out another yawn Kagome shook her head, not even bothering to open her eyes. "Okay, what I didn't tell you was that I started enjoying it _before_ he said that."

"Maybe you kind of knew he was going to point that out?"

Kagome managed a sleepy, self-deprecating laugh. "Yeah, 'cause I've always been _such_ the mind reader."

"Okay then . . ." Sango allowed her words to trail off as she thought it over, sipping from her mug and dutifully refraining from blanching at the taste for the thousandth time.

It was then that she'd had the minor, liquid-burn-inducing outburst. Kagome finally gave in and took a long, painfully horrid swig of her coffee, knowing for certain now that she did, in fact, need to drink the stuff for it to be of even marginal use to her.

"I said Stockholm Syndrome."

Kagome gave a thoughtful, if slightly dark, frown at this. "Stockholm affects kidnapping victims. How is this suppose to apply to me?"

"Okay, okay," Sango grinned sagely and set her coffee down, coming around the table again to sit on her heels before her friend. "I got this one. It's a person's self-preservation instinct deciding that the in order to survive they have to sympathize with their captor, in essence, their subconscious tricks them into believing they're friends or even in more severe cases in love with them, right?"

Kagome shuddered at the idea of her mind trying to make her fall in love with a creature like The Thief, regardless of factuality or circumstance. "Still not getting it, Sans."

"Okay then," Sango's thought processes did a little hiccup. "Wait, what did you just call me?"

Offering a lazy shrug, Kagome replied, "You know I hate being called 'Kags', so I'm going to do the same to you until you stop."

Sango gave this a moment's consideration before giving a shrug of her own with a slip of a grin gracing her lips. "Suits me just fine. I kind of think 'Sans' is cute." Kagome's face fell. "Back to what I was saying . . . . In the case of Stockholm Syndrome, it refers to kidnap victims as people who've had their free will restricted or taken away entirely, either by being held captive physically, or by being put into a situation where they can't do anything against the perpetrator."

"So you're saying he's basically holding me captive and so I'm responding out of self-preservation?"

Sango cringed inwardly- this part of the conversation was likely to hem on a subject she hadn't really wanted to broach until Kagome had gotten there herself, but she was slowly and reluctantly coming to realize she might not have a choice. "Yes and no. He is, in a sense, holding you captive, because he's got you in a situation where your back's against a wall . . ." she gave a half-nod and averted her eyes, "at some point, that may even be literal-"

"Sans!" Kagome burst out, feeling a blush threatening in her cheeks, "Stay on point, for the love of the gods!"

"Sorry, sorry . . . thinking it made me say it and saying made me picture things. Damn, it's not my fault that Professor Taisho is just kinda, sorta really hot, okay?"

"I'm going to get a migraine before we even finish this discussion," Kagome muttered to herself with a shake of her head as she forced back another swig of coffee.

"So, anyway, that's what I think. You're responding to the situation the way you are not necessarily out of self-preservation, but the need of preservation nonetheless."

Kagome nodded, instantly sniffling and feeling her eyes dampen just a little. She hadn't wanted to think on this, but she couldn't escape it. She wouldn't be in this mess if it wasn't for how strongly she felt the need to protect the professor. "I, uh . . ." her voice shook a little suddenly and she paused, drawing in a breath. She wasn't going to let herself dwell on all the things that little voice kept nagging her with- like that even if she found a way to get rid of The Thief, her heart was still moving steadily towards a dead-end. "I just wish things didn't have to be this way." Maybe it would be easier if she was only protecting him out of that now so far-away platonic respect she'd once held so dear. Maybe it wouldn't hurt as much if she didn't know that the man who truly owned the body that had made her feel all those amazing sensations last night would never do such things to her on his own.

Maybe never see her in that light, at all.

"Kags?" Sango said, biting her lip and standing to retrieve her coffee.

"Hmm?" She sniffled again.

"I'm going to ask you something, but . . . don't get all weird or offended, okay?"

Wiping at her eyes, despite her dry cheeks, Kagome nodded.

"Do you think that . . . you might be falling for Prof-" Kagome held up a hand, cutting Sango off.

"Yeah," she murmured after a long moment, raising blue eyes that were lightly rimmed with red to Sango's. "I'm just not sure if I'm only _falling_ . . . or if I already _am_."

Sango gave a slow, knowing nod and gave Kagome a few seconds to collect herself before deciding that a good, gear-shifting change of the conversation's direction was in order. "Okay!" She set down her mug again and stuffed her feet into her hiking boots, talking as she bent down to tie the laces snuggly. "We still need to figure out who's out there."

"Huh?" Kagome's voice was coming back to life, but still a bit numb as she followed Sango's lead and finished getting ready.

"Well, I see it like this. We need to stop pondering on things that we can't do anything about. The Thief issue- our hands are tied- the professor issue- unfortunately I don't see that changing anytime soon." Kagome grumbled something not particularly nice about herself under her breath, but Sango ignored it, continuing. "Sorry, hun, the heart wants what it wants, that's just how people work. Moving on. We need to figure out what was watching you last night."

It was with another self-insulting laugh that Kagome finally pushed up to her feet and set her mug on the table. "I haven't got the first clue, this sensitivity stuff is all new to me."

Throwing her arm out in front of Kagome, Sango halted them both in their walk toward the tent's entrance. "Maybe we _do_ have the first clue."

Gingerly pushing Sango's arm back down with two fingers, Kagome quirked a brow. "Which would be?"

"Well, I could be wrong, but it seems like maybe there's a pattern to what's going on. Think about it. In the text lining the chamber where The Thief's ashes were kept, the first mention is of The Thief, right? And the next person _actually_ mentioned- not glossed over like his sacrifices, ya know, written about, but as a whole not really identified- is his high priest. There's only one other person that receives their own mention, that was part of the story of his final days."

For some reason, Kagome's heart dropped into her stomach as it hit her. It was so simple, if it was correct. "The daughter."

"Exactly."

"Okay, but what would she want from me?"

Sango shrugged. "I don't know, but maybe it's like this. You let The Thief out-"

"Hey, I wasn't alone in that!"

Brown eyes rolled for a second. "No one's blaming you, Academia-nut. Just hear me out. The Thief was released, her father's remains have been found and he's being put to rest . . . but what about her? Nobody knows what happened to her remains, what if she wants you to find her, too?"

Kagome blinked rapidly a few times as that clicked in her mind. "You're right. And please don't ever call me 'Academia-nut' again. She was his last sacrifice. If his people really honored him as much as the texts say, than they might have wanted to protect her ashes, somehow, too and maybe hid them somewhere."

Sango nodded as she finally stepped forward and pulled back the tent's flap. "Let's just hope this discovery doesn't have you stumbling down into another trap door, okay."

"Oh my gods- that was _so_ not my fault."

* * *

Somehow Kagome made it through the morning and afternoon without so much as seeing Professor Taisho. She was more grateful than anything else about this as she wasn't sure if she'd be able to lay eyes upon the man without having treacherous memories of what had happened in the shower pop into her head. Oddly, it was proving to be a productive day in another sense entirely.

Through subtle, but meaningful looks and brief whispered conversation, she and Sango were putting a plan into place. Her lack of experience with the supernatural made their plan dubious at best in her opinion, but by now, she figured anything was worth a try, even if it would mean another night in which her sleep would be shot to hell. Until they had a chance to really have brain-storming time and the ability to access research materials on demons, they felt it was best to leave The Thief Situation alone and not waste time.

Against her own better judgment, it was decided that Kagome would have to approach the professor and use the favoritism he showed her- though she denied vehemently that there was any such thing occuring- to their advantage. Sango, who slept like the dead, might make it through a night of hunting for areas of the cavern that gave Kagome particularly spooky vibes, but after so much sleep deprivation on her part, they both realized that Kagome might need to be a tad better rested before they put their plan into action.

It was as the team was preparing to take dinner that she finally worked up the nerve to speak to Professor Taisho. People were drifting from the various work stations and research areas to file into the mess-tent and, as she saw the back of his sleek, silvery head, she almost turned on heel and ran. A wish that she most likely would have followed through on, if not for Sango standing at her back and nudging her forward.

"P-" she cleared her throat and tried again. "Professor Taisho?"

"Higurashi," he said in a tone that she knew was his best approximation of brightness just before turning to face her. She ignored the hammering of her heart- and the annoyingly delicious warmth she felt in other parts- as she pushed away the memory of seeing, and _feeling_, so very much of him last night. "How are you after yesterday?"

She almost blanched at the question until she remembered what he _had_ to be talking about. "What? Oh, oh, right the uh . . . skeleton." Kagome barely refrained from fidgeting nervously with her hands- why did she have to be such a terrible liar? She reminded herself she knew what to say and began playing it over and over in her head to help her voice through this. "I'm okay, but I um . . . I really did try to get some sleep last night, but I just couldn't rest. I'm really exhausted, do you think it would be alright if I turned in early? Just . . . just for tonight? I _know_ I can catch up on my researching duties in the morning."

He folded an arm across his chest, raising a hand to drum his fingers against his chin as he looked down at her for a long moment. He didn't want to cave to this, but after how stern and possibly unreasonable he'd been with her yesterday over how little she seemed to get rest, it didn't appear right to deny her this. It had nothing to do with the pair of vibrant blue eyes staring up at him so pleadingly.

"Well," he said at last, "I will allow it, but only on the condition that you do, in fact, make up for any work you miss." He shot a brief look in Sango's direction. "No one is going to cover your work for you, am I clear."

Breathing a sigh of relief, she gave Sango a cheesy-feeling thumbs up behind her back. "Thank you, professor. See you in the morning." She turned on her heel and was about to step away when he called her name again.

Refraining from scowling- why did he always seem to do that?- she plastered a polite, sleepy smile on her face as she spun back to face him. "Yes professor?"

"A word?" He nodded his head toward an empty spot at the edge of camp.

Sango averted her gaze and made a good show of following everyone else into the mess-tent. Professor Taisho watched the girl with a quirked brow before speaking to Kagome out of a corner of his mouth. "Forgive me for saying so, but your friend is a little odd."

The ease with which he was speaking to her- not to mention how platonic he was always being- helped her to differentiate between Professor Taisho and The Thief more readily than she'd been able to all day on her own. "I do hope that's not what you wanted 'a word' about. We could have that conversation right here, Sango is perfectly aware she can be a little loopy sometimes."

He gave a short, surprised chuckle at that as he stepped around her and began striding off, speaking over his shoulder. "That's not exactly what I wanted to discuss, no."

With a quick glance back toward the mess-tent, she followed the professor. There was a comfort for the moment in knowing The Thief was intelligent. It meant he wouldn't be dumb enough to pop up right now with so many potential witness so close by. She was safe with the professor for the time being. And she hoped that what had happened last night meant it would be a little longer this time before he needed another offering.

When he felt they were out of ear-shot, Professor Taisho began. "I want to know how you found that door."

Her brow furrowed as she stared up at him. "Oh, I . . . I'd like to tell you, professor, I really would, but . . ." she shrugged, the very last straw in all this, she felt, would be if he- of all people- looked at her like she was crazy, "I just don't think you'll believe it."

He shook his head, folding his arms across his chest and squaring his shoulders. "If it's about the impressions you get, than I promise to keep an open mind."

Kagome gave a start, blue eyes going wide. "How did you-"

"It's been proven that certain places, for whatever reasons, can retain energy. These energies can actually be detected as EM fields. Now, some of them are so low that your average person won't notice it, others are strong enough to affect everything from one's equilibrium to giving them nausea. Some people are- and I hate to use this term- wired a little differently from everyone else, in that they are especially sensitive to Electro-Magnetic fields that average people would not be able to detect. This is why I believe, as I hinted at the other night, spiritual sensitivity isn't a hoax or an aberration, but a valid 'gift,' if you will, that some people possess."

He allowed her a moment to let that all sink in. There seemed no point, now, in not sharing it with him. He could always harmlessly write off her perception of her own feelings as being just that- her own perception.

Hanging her head, she gave a sigh. "Okay. But I'm not being sent to a nut-house if you don't believe me."

"Beyond keeping an open mind, I'm making no promises."

She couldn't help scowling this time. "I thought I heard someone crying and it lead me to the door. I didn't even know it was there until I turned around 'cause I was beginning to think I imagined it." The memory of her fear in the moment she'd first heard that mournful wailing coming up to her from the thick, bleak darkness below came rushing back to her and she had to bite into her bottom lip for a moment to steady its sudden trembling. "It got louder when the door opened, and then when I fell in it just . . . stopped."

When she finally raised her gaze back to his, he looked awe-struck, but responded before she could feel like a fool for confiding that in him. "That's incredible, Higurashi. Have you always been sensitive?"

"No. It, uh . . ." she gave a nervous laugh, pushing her hair behind her ear. "It only started when I came here."

Another nod. "I think . . . when we return to Japan, there's someone I would like you to meet."

She didn't quite know how to take that. "I hope you're not suggesting I need a psychiatrist."

"No," he replied with a firm shake of his head. "This man is a medium. He's a bit old and crotchety, but he takes matters of spirituality very seriously. I used to be like so many others in our field and write him off as just another nut, but then he helped me by . . ." his voice trailed off, amber eyes distant for a moment before he brought himself back to the present. "Sorry, I won't bore you with such things. Just know that I think he might be able to help you understand and perhaps school your sensitivity so you can chose when and how you allow it to affect you."

Kagome couldn't shake the feeling that he'd been about to share something deeply personal with her. She put that notion aside quickly. There was no way he'd ever see her as someone he could confide in on such a level.

"Okay, if you think it could help me."

"I do. Now I've kept you long enough, please get something to eat and then go get some rest."

Nodding, she took a backward step. "I will. Um, thank you, professor." She spun on her heel and trotted off toward the mess-tent, more to find Sango and report to her than to put food in her jittery stomach.

"You're welcome, Higurashi." She heard him say. She put it out of her mind that his voice again sounded distant . . . and perhaps, if she wasn't entirely mistaken, just a little heart-wrenched.


	10. Missing Pieces

**Chapter Ten**

Missing Pieces

It was turning on one AM by the time Sango ducked into the tent to rouse Kagome. She'd been lurking on the outskirts of camp, waiting patiently until every team member was accounted for and safely asleep in their own tents. Professor Taisho's commitment to getting as much work done as he could until he felt sure he might pass out standing up had been the true issue.

_Such a workaholic_, Sango had groused to herself as she watched him finally trudging back from the site and wind his way through camp to retire for the night. She shook her head- he and Kagome were so much alike it was a wonder they weren't engaged in some steamy secret affair. Brown eyes rolled back and forth a bit as she thought that over . . . technically they sort of_ were_, but seeing as Professor Taisho Sesshomaru, himself, wasn't aware of the situation she didn't believe that could count.

She entered slowly, thinking she would have to wake Kagome, but the girl was already sitting up on the edge of her mattress, fully clothed and apparently fully alert. The moment Kagome's eyes locked on Sango's, she bounced up as silently as she could manage and grabbed her lantern. Brow furrowing, Sango mouthed the question, "Are you okay?"

Nodding stiffly, Kagome lightly tossed Sango a second lantern and hefted a small pack containing brushes, delicate digging tools and a handful of back-up glow rods onto her back. She didn't know if what they were doing was brilliant or idiotic, but perhaps it was the only route they had open to them at the moment. Really, she simply wanted to get this over with, focusing on the task before them and trying to keep her thoughts blessedly blank of anything else.

Casting a scrutinizing glance at Dominique's slumbering form to assure themselves that they hadn't disturbed her, the girls quietly slunk back out, into the serene darkness of the camp. They proceeded cautiously to the trail, creeping along through the jungle, not bothering to turn on their lanterns until they finally entered the mouth of the cave and started down into the winding tunnel.

Sango couldn't shake the unsteady feeling in the pit of her stomach, it inched over her making her skin crawl and edging around her brain like ice water. Frowning as they followed the curve of the tunnel, she rubbed her free hand over the arm holding her lantern, attempting to banish the goosebumps there, at least. She knew it was likely the combination of being _here_ so very late- and so very alone- and the knowledge of what they hoped to accomplish, all in light of the things that had been stumbled over in this place within such a short time.

"Kags?"

"Yeah?"

"Is this how you always feel in here?"

When Sango felt the weight of blue eyes landing curiously on the back of her head, she turned, showing her bared forearms. It wasn't that, though, that let Kagome know what she meant, it was the always-calm brown eyes that now showed a hint of white all around and the minute tremble in that usually so-firmly-set bottom lip.

Giving a tiny nod, Kagome offered a bleak smile. "Sometimes, yes. It was more potent when The Thief was still behind the wall, but yes."

Sango managed a nod back and turned on her heel, continuing down the tunnel in silence until they emerged on the dark, seemingly forever-damp sand of the underground shore. Coming to a halt, Kagome set down her lantern and shrugged the pack off to unwrap the wind breaker from around her hips and placed it as neatly as she could on the sand. "Remind me what I'm doing?"

"Um," Sango began, with a not terribly confidence-boosting scratch of her head. "Well, you're going to sit down and close your eyes and then just . . . breathe. You focus on that and just try to listen to whatever that little voice in your head tells you. Hopefully, this will at least give us a direction to start looking for her."

Sighing heavily, Kagome shook her head as she delicately sat herself on the jacket and pulled her ankles inward. "You've just made me feel_ so_ secure about this whole thing."

Taking a few steps back- allowing Kagome a personal-space bubble of at least several feet- Sango frowned a little. "Do you have a better idea? Look," she went on, not sparing Kagome the time to respond, "those other times you felt things, you weren't even trying, you were just kind of 'here'. So I'm thinking that if you _try_, if you focus on what you're feeling, maybe it'll give you a more direct impression."

Rolling her eyes- at both her willingness to go along with this insanity and the unbelievable predicament she was in altogether- Kagome squared her shoulders, drawing in a long, deep breath and as she let her lids drift downward. She focused on the air she was pulling into her lungs, on the simple act of pushing it back out again; focused on the sketchy blackness behind her eyelids, trying to imagine that somehow she could still see the stretch of night-dark beach before her.

Kagome felt- almost irrationally, she thought- that she could actually _sense_ where Sango was. It was faint, but a little thrumming energy, warm and bright that she just somehow understood was Ryoushi Sango. Was this quiet bundle of individual energy what auras were all about? Nodding inwardly- she guessed it probably was- she delicately nudged her awareness of her friend's presence aside, almost mentally earmarking it so she wouldn't confuse it with anything else she might come to her attention.

It seemed a long moment passed as Sango watched Kagome apparently meditating. There was nothing from the girl, not the tugging of her mouth to frown about how stupid she probably thought they were being, nor even the twitch of the eyelids she was likely fighting to keep closed. Blinking and rubbing her eyes with the tips of her fingers, she checked her watch. A sleek dark brow quirked. If her estimation of when they'd gotten here was correct, than Kagome had already been in this bizarre statue-resembling state for ten minutes.

So very odd, certainly she felt it had been a while but not that long. Ignoring the feeling of the fine hairs standing up on the back of her neck- and reminding herself of that rational, easily explainable combination of things causing her to feel this way- Sango turned her head in slowly increments of motion, dark brown eyes taking in their surroundings. She wasn't sensitive, that was Kagome's shtick . . . so then . . . why was she suddenly overcome with the deep, unavoidable feeling that they were _trespassing_ here? Her wary gaze shot back to Kagome a moment before the girl began to make an odd, guttural sound.

Kagome . . . flinched. Her lungs felt heavy instantly and the scent of sea water become overpowering, the sensation of waves lapping danced along her skin for the briefest moment before she let out a strangled cough, sounding as though she was about to force out a lung full of liquid.

Blue eyes snapped open. "There's something under the water," she whispered.

That thread of sound sent a chill through Sango's bones before she got a hold of herself and shook the feeling off. Frowning, she stepped over to where some of the more heavy-weight tools were kept and gave a determined nod. "Lead the way, Mystica!"

Scowling, Kagome shook her head as she pushed herself up to stand. "You are always such a wise ass." She paused as she noticed the shovel in Sango's hands. " . . . You're not seriously going to start digging wherever I tell you, are you?"

Sango held the shovel blade upward and made a waving motion with it. "First off, it's 'we', there's not going to be an 'I' in this especially if that 'I' means _me. _Second, I wasn't thinking it through, I just figured we'd be needing it anyway if it's out there," she pointed to the water with the tip of the shovel's blade.

Nodding reluctantly, Kagome swept her hair back and squared her shoulders. She wasn't sure exactly where the feeling had come from, but she was almost positive that if she got closer to wherever it was, she would simply _know_ it. "We're going to freeze to death on our way back to camp, you realize," she grumbled as she proceeded cautiously to the shore line.

"Only depending on how far in we're going!" Sango said optimistically as she followed her friend- she was diligently ignoring what she'd felt a few minutes ago, resolute in the notion that they were going to solve at least one of Kagome's problems this very night.

Kagome felt it as the toes of her boots touched to the very edge of gently lapping waves. A little glimmering pulse that oddly felt as though it was fading out with every ping, but it never seemed to lessen or dissipate at all. Freezing immediately, she threw an arm out, stopping Sango as well.

"We've missed something," she whispered, her voice again no more than a breath.

Turning her head slowly, Sango locked her eyes on the side of Kagome's face. "Okay, you _really_ need to stop it with the creepy muttering already."

Crinkling the bridge of her nose as she furrowed her brow, Kagome could only shrug, "Sorry, it just . . . comes out that way, I'm not meaning to do that."

"And don't say things like that, it makes it creepier!"

Huffing, Kagome threw her arms up in the air, "Can we just do this, please?"

"Okay, okay," Sango said in a placating tone. "We missed something, what do you mean? We're getting something wrong?"

"No," she responded certainly. "I mean our team, I mean the ones who initially found the site. We've all missed something."

"And do you want to share?"

With a quick jerking nod, Kagome reached over and extracted the shovel from Sango's hand. Bracing herself against the expectant chill, she stepped into the water.

"Thank the gods we both remembered to pack extra boots," Sango mumbled as she watched the girl wade into the water until it reached just above her knees.

Feeling that she almost lost the soft, tapping sensation of that faint glimmer Kagome closed her eyes, allowing her steps to drift right and then left as she sloshed forward ever so slowly, keeping her cringe to herself as the icy water reached her hips. The toes of her boot stuck something and she halted. Turning from the waist up to look at Sango, she raised the shovel over her head.

"We missed this," she brought the shovel down into the water before her.

Sango blinked in surprise as the blade gave a loud, water-logged _thunk _only an few inches at most into the surface of the waves. "What?" she asked, her own voice suddenly and strangely hollow to her ears. Water didn't thunk- and it certainly didn't stop rapidly driven metal objects- at least not from such a meager distance.

"I think there's a like a tiny plateau here," Kagome replied, pulling herself out of the water and up onto the thinly covered surface.

Shaking her head, Sango ran back for a second shovel and retrieved glow rods from the pack. Sloshing out through the waves, she joined Kagome on the small platform and hand her a rod before cracking her own and shaking it to life. Tucking it securely into a button hole of her shirt, she grasped the shovel's handle in both hands and plunked the blade down against the veiled bit of risen earth.

"This water is going to make it hard to know what we're getting at," she shook her head as she watched Kagome snap the other rod into illumination, "we're totally in danger of contaminating a find."

"I will remind you this was your idea," Kagome said as she determinedly began digging, though the effort more closely resembled pushing mud and water out of the way with the shovel.

Strangely the water seemed to be receding a little, barely noticeable from shore, probably, but enough to leave them seeing what they were digging into. Was it becoming low tide? The slowly strengthening richness of the saltwater in the air seemed to say so. Perhaps this was why no one had noticed this odd little hill before- because it must only be visible when they were all turned in for the night.

Kagome noticed it as well, sparing a moment to exchange a bewildered, yet relieved glance with Sango. It would make the search easier. If anything, however, she was a little disappointed in herself in that they hadn't been at this very long, yet her arms were already feeling the strain. They continued on in silence before she felt a tremor tumble through her.

"Stop!" she hissed to Sango who obediently paused as she was about to bring her shovel down for another shift-scoop of soggy earth.

They hadn't made too much of a mess- or too much of a dent, for that matter- yet, but Sango stepped back, allowing Kagome to do her thing. Kagome held her shovel out for Sango to take and then lowered herself to her knees to dig clumsily in the muck with her fingers.

"Are you sure you should be doing that?"

Kagome could only nod back, her jaw set in determination. "You can always help me fix my nails later," she grumbled, mostly at herself, as she clawed up chunks of mud and softened rock.

With a roll of her eyes, Sango shook her head. Kagome felt her nails scrape unnervingly against a smooth surface and froze.

"I've got something," she murmured.

"Creepy whispering again," Sango reminded as she set the shovels down and sat on her knees beside her.

"Sorry," Kagome offered distractedly as she began gently easing the object out of the muddy indent they'd made- mortified inwardly that she was unearthing something with such improper means.

Whatever was in her hands snapped suddenly and into the air wafted a cloud of dust. "Oh . . . OH SHI-"

Kagome didn't even have time to finish her cussing before the cloud rushed forward invading her mouth and nostrils. She fell back from the hole instantly, patting at her chest with her hands as she tried to cough out the specks.

"Kagome!" Sango shrieked, instantly snatching her friend's arms and yanking her up into a sitting position.

After a long moment of coughing and panicking, Kagome drew in a sharp, salty lungful of miraculously clean air. She felt something . . . a momentary sliding of thoughts not her own against her mind. Closing her eyes, she focused on the confusing and bizarre sensation, trying to identify it with the new sense that had yet to fail her. It frightened her beyond all comprehension, but fail to pinpoint spooky things happening to her? Not once, yet- she simply hadn't been _listening_ to herself before, that was amazingly obvious to her now.

She could see it in her mind's eye- an odd, luminescent replay of the moment that had just happened. The bit of ash had driven itself into her . . . it had sought her out, ignoring Sango entirely, it seemed. It had slid through her, a faint glimmering pulse of light, and attempted to latch onto her, but it met resistance almost instantly, unable to find purchase in any way. Quickly she clamped down on that tiny point of forever-fleeting light with a surge of inner strength that surprised her and slammed it into a dark corner of her mind, trapping it there. The volatile little ball of anger and jealousy rattled around for a moment like a trapped moth.

Kagome couldn't know for absolute certain, but she was confident that this presence understood that it couldn't overtake her . . . like Nah Rah Ku had with her Professor Taisho. Shaking her head, she pushed Sango's arms away, blinking her lightly tearing eyes open.

". . . Kags . . . ?" Sango began cautiously, her chin tilting up in suspicion. Wasn't this exactly what had happened to the professor and caused this entire mess?

Forcefully regulating her breathing, Kagome grumbled, "You're really never going to stop calling me that, are you?"

Shoulders slumped as Sango let her body relax. "Sorry, had to be sure you were still . . . well, _you_."

Kagome gave a nod of understanding. "There's something in here," she explained as she tapped a finger to the back of her head, trying hard to pay no mind to the sudden widening of Sango's eyes and raised her other hand up, "but- but . . . I don't think it's the same thing as what happened to the professor."

"Are you sure?"

Nodding, she went on, "She's not nearly as strong as The Thief, and I'm stronger than Professor Taisho . . . spiritually, I mean," she added to amend the statement at Sango's quirked brow. "She couldn't grab hold."

"You mean . . . the uh . . . daughter's in . . . there?" Sango made a quick pointing jab in the air, directed at Kagome's skull.

Kagome nodded leaning forward to look back into their indent. In the scraped-out pit she'd carved with her fingers was a traditional jar of earthen clay, shaped like a basket and what had come off in her hands had only been a covering. Inside the jar lay more ash and she realized she was lucky- she'd somehow managed to cut off the process before it could be completed, which likely also added to the spirit's inability to take hold. Quickly she snapped the lid back over the jar and began piling the muddy earth back over it. Sango watched in disbelief for a long, silent moment as Kagome proceeded to fill the indentation in as though it had never been made.

"Are you sure that's a good idea?" she asked, her tone quiet and cautionary.

Kagome shrugged, "Hell if I know, but I have the distinct feeling _now_ that she wanted me to find her so she could do with me what Nah Rah Ku did to the professor. The rest of this bitch is staying_ right_ where it is."

Sango's eyebrows shot up at that. The spirit must have _really_ ticked Kagome off- she never talked like that unless her fiery temper had been stoked. Unable to argue any further, after all, what if not replacing it as it had been proved a danger to Kagome later?

"Okay," she replied finally, hefting up the shovels and getting to her feet. "Let's get out of here- the tide is already rolling back in."

Nodding firmly, Kagome rose, hopping down into the rough foot of water still left and rising slowly but steadily to begin sloshing her way back to shore. She didn't speak as Sango followed her, as they carefully repacked the back that they'd not really needed and replaced the borrowed shovels exactly where they'd been. She didn't know how to feel about what had just happened. Should she feel stupid for being tricked? Should she be angry that she'd let herself be tricked? That this spirit had deliberately called her out in an attempt to possess her? Why? To be able to _live_ again, like The Thief was doing?

Growling inwardly, she picked up her windbreaker and shook the sand from it before retying it around her hips and putting the pack back on. Snatching up her lantern, she turned to Sango, not terribly surprised to see her friend watching her cautiously. It wasn't incredibly heartening to know that Sango was half-expecting the high priest's daughter- _Lyka_ . . . Kagome got the impression of the unusual-sounding name Lyka- to burst forth and take her over at any second, but it wasn't exactly a shocking thing for her to think, either.

Sango picked up her own lantern and gave Kagome a nod. "You're really okay?"

With a roll of her eyes, Kagome let a breath hiss out from between lightly pursed lips before responding. "For my sake, I certainly hope so, but even if I'm not I really don't know what I can do about it!"

"Okay, alright," Sango said starting toward the tunnel, the verbal slap had reminded her that she wasn't the one carrying the brunt of this and her scrutinizing look probably wasn't helpful to Kagome's frame of mind or her understandably soured mood. "Let's just get back."

Another nod was offered as Kagome moved a few steps toward the mouth of the tunnel and stilled. She felt . . . something. Blue eyes roved aimlessly as she tried to pinpoint it. This wasn't like Lyka, it was . . . it wasn't tiny, but it was just as faint and she got the impression of something . . . broader. No, that wasn't right, but she couldn't think of how better to interpret it. It was wider in scope somehow and . . . mournful.

Sango didn't know whether to be fed up with Kagome's constant short-stopping or freaked out by it. "What's wrong?"

Giving a vague shrug, Kagome turned on her heel and spun to face further into the cavern. "There's something else," she said quietly as she began walking toward the deep recesses, where the water was feed in to the cave, not toward the temple nor back to the water, simply further in.

It was unnerving to follow her silently past the only area of the subterranean space that they were familiar with and into the completely, endlessly black depths with no illumination but their lanterns. Sango could tell that Kagome was focused on whatever it was she was sensing, so she didn't bother distracting her, forcing herself to trust where her friend was going with this.

Again the hairs on the back of her neck raised and she felt an icy roiling in the pit of her stomach, swimming around in her skull, but she did her best to push it out of her mind. Raising her lantern's light she panned slowly around as they walked seeing nothing but the rough surface of craggy, pocked stone.

"I know they didn't find anything of interest," Kagome was unintentionally back to the dull, breathless whispering that added to Sango's unease- she honestly didn't know how Kagome had managed to work in the temple all those days with this sort of constant, gnawing, nameless dread stealing over her the entire time- as she answered the girl's unvoiced, but nevertheless obvious question, "but what if it's another case of not knowing where to look?"

Kagome felt her heart drop into her stomach, the strange, mournful energy seemed to pull back from her. She got the oddest impression than that whatever this was . . . it was trying to protect itself. The notion sent a chill dancing over her spine and she paused, forcing a gulp down her throat as her gaze darted around the blackness, the lantern clutched in her numb fingers suddenly too heavy to lift up and accompany her eyes' path. What could this be hiding from?

Sango didn't need Kagome's sudden frantic, confused surveying of the area to tell her something was wrong. She could feel it . . . eyes on them . . . boring right down into their backs and-

"Would someone like to-"

They both nearly jumped out of their skin, emitting startled yelps and spinning to face the voice. Twin lantern beams landed on the tired, confused and downright sleep-rumpled face of Professor Taisho as he threw up a hand to shield his eyes.

Immediately letting the focus of their lights land back on the ground, Kagome and Sango somewhat blindly exchanged a quick glance of _Oh gods, are we in Trouble!_ "P-Professor Taisho!" Kagome managed after a moment of confused looks all around.

"As I was saying . . ." he muttered, squaring his shoulders and setting his jaw- Kagome didn't like that combination of gestures, it wasn't a good sign at _all, _one was fine, the other was fine, but together . . . she repressed a shudder, she didn't even want to think on it- "would someone like to tell me what the hell you two are doing?"

_Sango to the rescue!_ Kagome thought with relief as her friend cleared her throat and raised a hand. Quirking a brow, the professor lifted the beam of his own lantern to confirm the action as though he didn't believe she was actually doing it.

"Put your hand down," he said in a mystified tone, sleep-tousled silver head shaking. "Just speak."

"Okay, well, um," Sango let her hand drop as she stammered, but it could be easily written off as fear of getting in trouble and Kagome was more thankful in that moment than she'd ever recalled that Sango could think on her feet so well, "Kagome was having another of her 'feelings' and even though you let her turn in early, she wasn't getting any sleep. So I thought that maybe if she came out here and could pin down at least where it was coming from, she could finally get some rest."

A dark, almost dangerous-seeming frown tugged the corners of his mouth downward as he pulled his gaze from Sango to look at Kagome. "Why didn't you come to me about this?"

Like a brick to the side of her head, the realization of what that expression meant hit Kagome. Professor Taisho Sesshomaru was hurt. Even trying to tell herself that she was imagining things did precious little to ease the stabbing ache she felt in her chest at seeing such a look on his face- to acknowledge that she was the one who'd put it there seemed to be beyond her comprehension entirely.

"I . . . I didn't," she licked her lips nervously, having to drop her gaze from his before trying again, "I mean I didn't and I still don't know what it was, and I didn't want to disturb you if it turned out to be nothing. I've gotten so little sleep that I couldn't be sure if it was just my imagination running away with me after all that's happened lately."

Sango hid her surprise at how fluidly Kagome had just fibbed . . . to the _professor_, no less. She recognized quickly enough, however, that she hadn't needed to hide anything, since it suddenly seemed like they'd forgotten she was there.

"I told you to come to me if anything was troubling you," he reminded in a tone that bordered on lightly scathing.

Kagome felt herself wince. "I'm sorry! I just didn't want to bother you with it if it turned out to be nothing."

Professor Taisho opened his mouth to argue that point, but seemed to remember himself- why was he arguing with her _again? _She was his student, not his equal, not _yet, _no matter how strangely it felt as though she already was so often of the time, therefore she should do as he instructed and not always put up such a fuss! He nearly growled inwardly at himself. Not only was her behavior vexing, but so was his own- he _let _her get away with acting this way.

Amber eyes narrowed at her and for a split-second, Kagome could have sworn she saw a glint in them that was a mix of predatory and spurned. "Let's just get back to camp, shall we?" he finally managed through lightly clenched teeth, gesturing for the girls to walk ahead of him.

"We will come to this spot tomorrow- during _appropriate_ hours and inspect the area- after we've _all_ had sleep." His voice was a low, grumbling bark of sound at their backs.

Kagome was about to mutter another apology, but the professor cut her off. "Do not make me ask why you two are soaked practically from the waist down."

Nodding and audibly snapping her mouth shut, Kagome simply trudged along beside Sango, both relieved that he'd not declared them kicked off the excavation and still a little . . . worried.

It was as they were moving away- as the professor was moving away- from that area that she felt the dim, mournful essence reaching toward her again. She was worried because she understood now why it had shrank back from her in that moment. Whatever that energy was, it could feel the demon lurking beneath Professor Taisho's consciousness. It had recognized Nah Rah Ku.

And it had recoiled in fear.


	11. Enviable Positions

**Chapter Eleven**

Enviable Positions

_She was aware of the texture of warm skin beneath the tips of her fingers. A little smile curled one corner of her mouth as she watched his head fall back, as she heard the low, rumbling groan sounding in the back of his throat. _Yes_, she thought wistfully, sinking to her knees before him, her lips and tongue dragging a moist line down his abdomen, over the flat muscles of his stomach and lower still._

_Pausing a moment in her actions, she raised her gaze to watch his face, waiting patiently for him to look at her as she lightly held the tip of his hardened length between her lips. She was _going_ to prove herself special to him._

_The long waves of his dark mane spilled over his shoulders as he tipped his head forward, crimson eyes meeting hers and he sank his fingers into her hair, attempting to gently inch her forward, to slide a bit more of himself into her warm, perfect little mouth. She only continued to stare up at him refusing to budge, merely nibbling teasingly over his tip._ _He groaned painfully and she felt a sweet thrill in the pit of her stomach at the sound._

_"How you torment me," he murmured, "my Lyka."_

* * *

Kagome wrenched herself awake, as much for the alarm buzzing shrilly in her ear as for the need to get away from that . . . that_nightmare_. She hadn't needed to hear what he'd called her to know what she'd been seeing, nor had she needed the slowly sharpening clarity of her first fully-awake moments allowing her to notice their surroundings- that they'd been in The Thief's sacrificial chamber. But it had been different . . . colorful and fragrant with scores of blossoms and beautifully woven textile throws everywhere.

It must have been a glimpse from the day they'd . . . died. She forced a gulp down her throat, trying to detach herself from the feelings that realization brought with it. The idea that she could have easily relived the _actual_ moment of death instead chilled her to the bone. Shaking her head she focused on the less frightening aspects of the dream.

Had she really just seen the demon's true form? But _how _could he . . . ? She clutched the smooth fabric of her sleeping bag against her chest for a moment as she puzzled over this . . . . He'd looked so . . . _human_. And . . . if she put aside how much she despised him, he was really kind of- _No, no Kagome, you did _not_ just start thinking that!_

Rubbing sleep from her eyes angrily, she roughly pushed aside the acknowledgment that Nah Rah Ku had actually been quite handsome in his time . . . in a creepy, crimson-eyed, skin-crawly type of way. Her gaze darted around the tent. Sango was already off to the shower, apparently, and Dominique was bobbing her head to whatever was coming through her earphones as she laced up her boots, clearly unaware that Kagome had stirred at all.

Frowning darkly, Kagome turned her anger inward, combing through her consciousness and singling out the mischievous little orb of thought and emotion that wasn't hers. It was still locked up tight in a corner of her mind, but it seemed that being restrained didn't stop Lyka from trying to bother her.

Pointing a finger at the back of her own skull- where she envisioned Lyka's consciousness to be confined- she hissed in a seething murmur, "Once I figure out how, you are _so_ gone!"

She didn't know what was worse about the smug confidence she felt rippling off of her unwanted guest. The fact that smug confidence was just _always_ annoying, that she really didn't know how to rid herself of this troublesome spirit . . . or that the spirit, itself, was so confident because of just how strongly it doubted that she'd find a way to do so.

* * *

Kagome sighed heavily as their rickety, burrowed pick-up truck bumbled to a halt. She'd been hoping that today would be the day she could get the check-up she'd promised the professor she would have over with, but it had seemed the fates were against her. Not that Professor Taisho had been incredibly thrilled that the town's lone physician had been called out to help in another of the area's outlying villages- after all, he'd also made a promise to get a check-up- but he couldn't have just let it go, making certain to leave word of when they would return to see him.

"Higurashi," the professor said sharply as she piled out of one side of the truck behind Shippo and Ayame.

Exchanging a quick glance with Sango, who was busy tumbling out of the other side, Kagome forced a gulp down her throat. Professor Taisho had barely glanced in her direction all morning and as he normally seemed to look to her expectantly when he asked a question, full-well knowing she was almost always the first to come to a correct conclusion, the slight had not gone unnoticed by anyone. She had spent _hours_ in painful anticipation of another lecture. He'd not actually shared the _why _behind his thinly veiled agitation, only making an offhanded comment about recent lapses in _normally_ sound judgment- a comment that had hit Kagome like an icy little jab in her gut. Somehow she thought perhaps the lecture would be a lighter punishment than his not-too-subtle hinting.

"Monday morning, no excuses. Please be certain to reschedule your duties accordingly." Kagome was about to let her shoulders slump in relief when he continued, "I expect you at the site in twenty minutes."

She managed a stiff nod, aware that she was speaking to the back of his head. "Yes, professor."

He responded with a nod of his own before striding away. Ayame made a _yeouch _face, patting Kagome's shoulder reassuringly before turning and heading off to check her work list.

Shippo's turquoise eyes were huge as he stared up at her, shaking his head. "I don't know what you did to piss off the professor . . . but whatever it was, I'm glad _I_ didn't do it." The short boy repressed a shudder as he, too, wandered away.

Sango rounded the truck and came to stand beside her as she watched everyone else milling about the campsite. Kagome held in a second sigh. Great minds, even in the students . . . all individuals that prided themselves on their observational skills and situational awareness and yet not one of them had a clue as to the strangeness unfolding right beneath their noses. Lids drifted slowly down over blue eyes, closing them to the world for a long moment. She wished she could pretend she didn't know anything more than any of them.

"C'mon," Sango said with a forced brightness, clamping her hands over Kagome's shoulders and spurring her into motion, "let's go fix up your research schedule so you can get to the site and get the impending chewing-out over with."

Head falling back to dust the ends of her long dark hair against her hips, Kagome let out a miserable groan as she trudged forward. "Than it's not just me, huh? It really seems like he's just . . . waiting 'til no one's around to hear it so he can yell at me?"

"Yup."

Kagome choked out another unhappy noise.

* * *

"Okay, I was over here," Kagome said, hiding her uncertainty as Professor Taisho watched her movements and Miroku checked the power on the hand-held G.P.R. device she always thought looked like a glorified metal detector. Ground Penetrating Radar searched for more than just metal, it transmitted information on cavities or other anomalies several feet beneath the ground.

She wasn't as certain as she would like to be- she also wasn't comfortable with the idea that Miroku, too, now knew about her sensitivity, luckily, though he only grasped as much of the situation as the professor did. It was hard to tell, though, forcing her to fidget as she stared at the pocked wall, the high and rough pitted ceiling, as she brought her gaze back down to dance over the darkened sand. Whatever had been reaching out to her last night had just seemed to . . . to- _Hmm,_ a corner of her mouth twitched. She couldn't be certain if it was holding itself at bay or ignoring her, but the impression that it knew she was here was incredibly distinct.

Then she remembered how the presence had retracted last night . . . when Professor Taisho had come here.

Nodding to herself, Kagome spun on her heel, putting as much confidence into her voice as she could muster, positive that she was on to something. "Professor, I'm sorry, but I'm going to need you, and Miroku," she added to make it appear as part of a process she was testing out, "to just . . . back up a bit and give me some space."

A silver brow quirked and she cringed inwardly- it was still obvious that he was not happy with her. "How far back?"

Looking around again- wanting to be certain she recognized the same area she'd been drawn to last night- she gave another self-assuring nod and walked over to the professor and Miroku. She surprised herself when she nonchalantly grabbed Professor Taisho and his assistant by their elbows and started pulling them with her until they were approximately fifteen feet back from their original positions. Both of his brows had arched up to disappear beneath long-ish silvery bangs when she glanced up at him.

"Sorry," she said, trying to push away from feeling sheepish at all as she dropped her hands from them, "I was going on feeling rather than just my 'normally sound judgment' to estimate the amount of space."

One corner of Professor Taisho's mouth curved ever so slightly upward as amber eyes narrowed fractionally at her. Kagome understood that look to mean _touche_. Ignoring that Miroku was stifling a chuckle, she turned away from them and dutifully marched back to her starting point. After a moment- she was also ignoring that her fingers were still tingling from where she'd taken the professor's arm- she felt she had collected herself enough to begin focusing as she had last night.

Her eyes drifted slowly closed and she shut everything else out as she concentrated on the simple sensation of air being drawn into her lungs and the subtle push of forcing it back out again. It came to her much more quickly than last time- she didn't know if that was a product of being physically closer, or of some resonant familiarity in the wake of last night's interrupted communication.

It washed over her skin, like ice-water splashing against burned flesh, the mournful feeling- _regret_, she recognized a stinging, all consuming regret- gnawed at her instantly. Separating it from her own emotions was difficult, and she couldn't fully manage, finding herself holding back inexplicable tears as she cautiously walked forward. Her progress was slow as she carefully felt around with her toes before taking any actual step.

A few silent moments passed as she continued forward and then simply . . . stopped. The energy that had been reaching out to her shifted, no longer pulling her forward, but _downward _and she knew whatever it was must be beneath her.

Given how being on _top_ of a vibe had played out for her last time, Kagome's eyes snapped open and she all but leaped a near-foot to the right, keeping a pointed finger trained on the spot she'd been standing. "There, whatever it is, it's there . . . somewhere."

Nodding to her, the professor took his time, carefully double-checking the scanning equipment before allowing Miroku anywhere near the area. As the professor neared, the foreign emotions pulled away from Kagome and she found herself tired, suddenly- it was likely because she wasn't used to this sort of things yet, she surmised. She let her back sag against the craggy wall behind her as watched them return to their original places. Shaking her head, she raised a hand to rub at her eyes. It could also be her stunted sleep from the night before. Rolling her head on her shoulders, she gave a content sigh at the tension-easing sensation of her neck cracking.

Her eyes drifted closed again. She felt peaceful now . . . and relaxed. Distantly she could hear the low rumble of the professor's voice as he spoke with Miroku. He really had a nice voice, she realized- deep, faintly gravelly when he lowered it to speak quietly. It was almost against her will that she began to wonder what it would sound like to hear him make the kind of noises The Thief made. Yes, it was still the same voice, but there was simply something different to it when he was possessed.

With another sigh, she let her mind wander and almost before she knew it . . . she was witnessing a scene similar to the dream she'd had this morning, but she was removed from it, watching it play out before her like a movie. And Professor Taisho was in Nah Rah Ku's place.

Kagome felt her skin tingle again, only it was more than her on her fingers this time, as she watched the back of her own head moving lower over Taisho Sesshomaru's bared body. It was only by the grace of the gods that her breath didn't catch in her throat as she watched the blissful look on his face as his head tipped back, as she heard the delicious rumbling growls sounding in the back of his throat. She thought if she tried, she might just imagine the feel of his skin beneath her lips, against her tongue.

She watched the Kagome- the _so-much-luckier-than-she _Kagome- in the image turned her head slowly. She gave a start at the round, glittering black eyes staring back at her and the face she'd never seen before. The smile that curved those full, unfamiliar lips was both mocking and unnerving.

She was looking at Lyka . . . the spirit had sought to corrupt a private, happy fantasy.

The very idea of this . . . bitch thinking of things like that with the Professor . . . . _Oh really? _Kagome questioned angrily- this spirit had just crossed a line- and gathered up the inner anger and strength she'd felt last night when she'd initially confined Lyka. With a force that surprised her- happily, albeit- Kagome struck the foreign ball of consciousness as surely as if she was punching the entity in the face.

Lyka shrunk back from her instantly and Kagome gave a satisfied inward nod. She opened her eyes, not at all shocked to see the professor and Miroku in nearly the same spot. Only a brief moment had passed, she was sure of it. She gave herself a shake, that little voice reminding her that she should get back to work . . . and that being in this place probably wasn't the best thing for her current state.

"Professor, I think I should get back to camp now, we're almost done with the sifting, but I think Ayame will have my head if I'm late to take over for her again."

He gave a nod as she pushed away from the wall and trooped past him. She was almost in the clear, she believed, until a nagging thought of her own popped up to run around in her mind.

"Professor" she blurted out before she could stop herself.

"Higurashi?"

She raised her head to look at him over her shoulder. Finally he was actually looking at her, not merely turning in her direction and casting his eyes somewhere in her vicinity. Taking a chance, she made a subtle nod of her head, asking him to step aside with her.

The face he made was one Kagome knew well as the man refraining from rolling his eyes. Thankfully, she didn't feel it was directed at the notion of her pulling him aside, rather that he was being pulled away from work. With a sigh he smoothed his palms over sleek, silver hair and walked over.

For a long moment she just stared up at him until he folded his arms across his chest and edged out a single word, ". . . Well?"

"Right, sorry, just um . . . still tired." She shook her head briskly, trying to get back her focus. "I just wanted to ask, how did you know Sango and I sneaked out here last night?"

Professor Taisho unexpectedly gave a half-smirk, barely repressing a surprised chuckle. He'd been absolutely livid last night, but as he'd broken that down and realized it to be equal parts slighted that she'd felt she couldn't come to him about this and just plain old over-cranky from having his sleep disturbed, he was slowly letting it go. He was quite reluctant to admit it, but he was really beginning to think it was simply beyond him to maintain anger at her. He reasoned that this was _only_ because she reminded him so much of himself when he'd been a student and that he couldn't know what these experiences were like for her, so how could he expect to dictate her reactions?

And she and her friend had proved to have all the grace of pack of inebriated rhinos.

Finally he swept a hand over his face, attempting to banish his amused expression. "I was falling asleep when I heard what sounded like someone- or some_ones- _bumbling through camp."

Kagome repressed a cringe, her hands clamped behind her back and her fingers twisting together nervously. Apparently she and Sango weren't the _super-stealth ninja_ they thought themselves to be.

"So I went to take a peek at what was happening," he continued, either not noticing, or letting her believe that he didn't notice, her awkward fidgeting. "And what should I see, but you and Ryoushi in this exaggerated and," he shook his head, once more restraining a laugh, "_sadly_ conspicuous sneaky-mode, if you will. I _thought_ I was imagining things . . . I _hoped_ that I was only dreaming it. There would be no way two of my most promising students would be sneaking off to the site after the area had been closed for the day, now would there?"

Blue eyes were darting about, touching the cavern ceiling, the sand beneath their feet, the toes of her own hiking boots, the walls . . . everywhere but at him. Regardless she could feel his gaze boring down on her.

"I did manage to fall asleep for a short time," he said in a mockingly wistful tone, "but then I awoke once more, positive that I'd not simply imagined the nonsense I'd seen. So I changed back out of my sleeping clothes and grabbed a lantern and what do you know? When I peek into the tent of these two promising young people it's to find them both missing. I could have ignored it, but I will go to the pain of reminding you- yet again, hmm, I believe this is the third time I've had to say this- you are my responsibility, that made it my obligation to come after the two of you and see what was going on."

Kagome's shoulders slumped and her fidgeting eased a bit. Professor Taisho wasn't angry with her, after all. He was upset- that much she was clear on, but the painful and dread-inducing lecture wasn't coming after all. She at last risked bringing her eyes back up to his.

"You should have come to me about how you were feeling."

"I know, I'm sorry," she stopped herself right there- not only would she be lying if she tried to actually explain the truth behind the situation, but she would be lying to _him_ and that was an aspect of this entire insane mess that she just couldn't deal with.

She felt a bizarre little tickle behind her forehead. Focusing on it for only a split second, she understood it to be Lyka flashing another image in front of her mind's eye- of being on her hands and knees . . . with Professor Taisho kneeling behind her and- with an inward growl Kagome slammed Lyka's consciousness once more. She didn't wait for the spirit to shrink back from her again- she didn't bother, knowing it would happen, understanding now that trying to trip up her thoughts and influencing her dreams were _all_Lyka was capable of doing.

"I . . ." Kagome shook her head, averting her eyes for a moment, just long enough to assure herself that her guest-from-hell had quieted and to be certain there wasn't a blush in her cheeks- it was difficult enough to look up into Professor Taisho's face knowing how very much she'd seen of him recently, but to stare up into those eyes after the images that had been fabricated in her mind was damn near impossible, "I didn't realize that you'd be upset about it, I'm really sorry."

The professor seemed to weigh her words before squaring his jaw and letting a sigh slip out. "Higurashi, I don't know what more I can do to assure you that you can confide these things to me and I will do whatever I can to help you."

"I'm sorry," she said again, "this is just still all kind of new and I just sort of . . . acted."

He nodded slowly. "I don't understand what you're going through, but I appreciate that you're being honest about what happened. I wasn't angry with you, Higurashi, but I was disappointed."

Kagome didn't know what jabbed a sharp little point into her heart more- that he perceived her as being honest with him or that he was disappointed that she hadn't brought herself to trust him on that level. Teeth sinking deep into her bottom lip, she forced a nod before taking a backward step.

"I really should get going now."

He gave a responding nod and strode back over to Miroku. Hanging her head for a long moment, she let a breath slip out from between pursed lips. He wasn't angry with her . . . okay, that made her feel a little better. Finally she raised her head and spun on her heel, only to collide with someone, wheeling around them and turning away from her initial direction.

"Whoa, whoa," she heard as strong hands latched around her shoulders and kept her from stumbling about any further.

"Sorry," she squeaked out sheepishly, finding herself staring up at Bruckner. "Huh," the breathed hint of sound escaped her unexpectedly.

She hadn't had the opportunity to notice the last time she'd seen him up close because of his raggedly-tired appearance, but he was quite handsome . . . in a he-could-be-mistaken-for-some-American-surfer kind of way. Staring up into shockingly vibrant blue-green eyes- really, how could she have _not_ noticed them before- she wondered briefly how anyone in academic society took the poor man seriously.

"Are you okay?" He asked with a small chuckle, apparently unaware of his hands still on her shoulders.

"Oh," she couldn't resist a laugh at herself then, shaking her head. "Yeah, um . . . sorry, I just almost didn't recognize you."

His brow furrowed before he realized what she meant and he relinquished his hold on her, making a vague waving gesture toward his face before combing fingers through his pale brown hair. "You mean the whole 'zombie' thing I had going on last time? Hmm, not sure you're one to talk."

Her mouth hung open for a second. "Wh-what?"

Bruckner's lips curved in a half-grin. "Ms. Fainting-Spell? Common knowledge seems to be that you have a penchant for self-induced sleep deprivation."

She managed another laugh. "At least I didn't look like the walking dead. So very memorable."

"Yeah, I should've known that would be the look to impress the pretty girls."

Kagome sputtered for a moment. Had she really just heard that? "Um . . . did you just call me pretty?"

His eyes flashed a little wider for just a moment, giving her the impression that he'd not realized what he'd said. "Uh . . ." he coughed out a chuckle before offering a shrug. "I would actually say that's an understatement, but if the shoe fits . . . ."

She wasn't really used to flirting or open flattery- not that she'd never received it before, simply that she'd never paid any mind to it. "Oh, uh, thank y-"

"Bruckner!"

Kagome gave a start at the sound of Professor Taisho all but barking for the man's attention. It seemed her misfortune to have a glimpse of the professor's face over Bruckner's shoulder for a split-second.

"I take it you wanted to speak with me?" The professor went on only after Bruckner turned away from Kagome.

"Uh, yes," Bruckner replied, laughing at himself as he gave a parting nod to Kagome and sheepishly trotted over to his colleague.

She watched in a dazed sort of puzzlement as Professor Taisho maneuvered the other man while they began talking and she suddenly found the professor's broad shoulders shielding Bruckner from her line of sight entirely. Attempting to put it out of her mind, she finally turned and started of toward the tunnel to the surface just beyond the main site.

It was both unsettling and oddly exhilarating to consider the look that had flickered across Taisho Sesshomaru's face as he'd called for Bruckner. She could be mistaken, but the mingling of rage and something lesser, yet still just as fierce left her thinking of something primitive and beast-like. A feral creature protecting its- _okay,_ she commanded sharply, nearly stopping in her tracks with the force of the thought, _being stupid again Kagome._

Despite those words, though, she couldn't help wondering if perhaps she _wasn't_ imagining that he treated her just a little differently than everyone else. But she couldn't deny that even with his usual partiality toward her- the favoritism he showed her and her position as teacher's pet, that she possibly reminded him of his younger self or even her own, sad, dim little hope that someday he might feel a marginal aspect toward her of what she felt for him- this had been _different._

Her brow furrowed as she trudged through the sand past the temple. She didn't know how to feel about having enjoyed that he'd just treated her like something that was _his_ to protect.


	12. More to This

**Chapter Twelve**

More to This

Kagome sighed and gave a long, weary stretch as she stepped out of the doctor's miserably crumbly and dilapidated office and onto a sun-parched pavement that was full of wide, ragged cracks and fine little fractures. At least she'd made it this far without much trouble from Lyka and had gotten her check up over with, now all that was left was to pile back into that awful truck with Miroku and the professor- that had to be marginally better than their previous trips, since Miroku had taken the truck into the lone local garage to have seat belts installed . . . finally. That she was found to mostly be in good health was another plus; other than mild vitamin deficiency, she'd appeared to have no medical problems. She counted her blessings on that one in particular, having secretly held the hope all this time that her dealings with the demon hadn't left any sort of detectable trace in her system somehow.

She couldn't _begin_ to think how she would have explained some unexpected abnormality.

"Kagome, wait up!" the sudden voice behind her had her whirling on her heel, long black locks slapping Miroku as they fanned out with the motion.

"Sorry," she offered quickly with a small laugh as he batted at the strands. "Truck ready yet?"

"Uhhh, no," he gave a sheepish grin as he reached back to scratch at the scalp beneath his short ponytail. "I'm going to go baby-sit that rickety monstrosity 'til they're done with her. It seems like we're looking at _maybe_ . . . another hour before we can get back on the road-"

"What?" Kagome barely refrained from whining. Miroku held up his hands in a placating gesture as he gave a slow shake of his head. "I know, I know- but to put it in perspective . . . they said we're lucky to be getting it done _today . . . ._"

Blue eyes rolled around a bit as she pondered having to spend a night in some rundown hovel of a hotel while combating mosquitoes the size of bull frogs with Miroku and Professor Taisho. He'd had no more outbursts like the one with Bruckner at the site several days ago, but oddly she kept feeling like he was . . . holding himself in check in some way. Especially when she was speaking to a male. She still couldn't understand what was causing him to act to this way, but she also couldn't deny that on a darker, inner level she _liked_ the angry spark that lit his eyes for a fraction of a second in those moments.

Instantly she found herself having to push away the naughty thoughts that came attached to the idea of spending a night with her suddenly possessive-seeming professor, _anywhere_. "Yeah, okay," she piped up before the notion could settle in her brain enough to cause a blush, "an hour it is."

"Could you do me a favor and let the professor know?"

She blinked a few times- she thought Miroku had somehow secreted a GPS chip onto Professor Taisho's person by now. "Uh . . .okay. Do you know where he is?"

Things were continuing to run smoothly between the professor and her and she felt sure that it was because _she_ was diligently ignoring his inexplicable slips in behavior and _he_ was ignoring that he was behaving in any way that required the feigning of ignorance.

"He's in the school, went to set things for the next sit-down, I think."

"Ah, okay." She frowned just a little, considering the idea that he could still have put a chip on the man and just didn't want to be the one to go get him.

He waved and was off, strolling down the barely-there sidewalk toward the garage. For a strange moment, Kagome found herself turning her head to watch him walk away. It was only after she did it that she realized _what_ she was doing- she was _actually_ taking note of the way his worn blue jeans fit him. Even more self-surprising was that she caught herself thinking _Way to go, Sango!_Turning her head forward again, she soundly slapped herself on the forehead. First it was flirting with Bruckner, now it was covertly checking out Miroku? She'd barely even glanced at a man that way before arriving in the tropical hell hole!

She gave a light grimace at her misplaced negativity- she didn't think of this place as a hell hole. The dealings she'd had with Nah Rah Ku clearly _had_ left a trace on her, she thought ruefully, it just wasn't anything detectable by anyone but herself.

Holding in another sigh, Kagome took a second to orient herself and began walking in the direction of the school. The small town was quiet- and stereotypically resembled just about every portrayal she'd ever seen on television of rural Latin American, jungle-bordering villages. But it was oddly serene and, as she paused to draw in a deep lungful of air through her nostrils, smelled of leafy vegetation, dry soil, old wood and fresh air. You couldn't find that combination of scents much anymore.

It was as she reached the school that she nearly stopped in her tracks, realizing why Miroku had asked _her_ to do this. Lifting her gaze to take in the edifice of the sadly ancient-looking building with its chipped and decrepit-seeming brick work she remembered that the children were off due to some sort of local holiday festivity, which was also why the streets were currently so quiet, as most- parents and children alike- were in their homes making preparations for a long evening celebration. When the small building was active and full of the sounds of children shifting and shuffling papers and teachers giving lecture it was fine, but empty as it was now with the few lifeless, darkened windows bearing down on her like hollow eye sockets the place was just . . . . She forced a small gulp down her throat, finding it hard to believe that after everything she'd been through recently she would still be able to think of something so simple and mundane as . . . .

Well, c_reepy._

Groaning inwardly, she shook off the feeling- _really_, she'd uncovered a demon, watched her professor get possessed, had landed on a skeleton, came within a hair's breadth of being possessed herself, and her most recent discovery . . . . _Oh_, she wasn't even going to think on that, it would only increase the icy itching threatening to start in the pit of her stomach. Kagome drew in another deep breath and let it out slowly. She was surprised that _anything_ could make her feel spooked, anymore. Giving herself a reassuring nod, she stepped up to the building finally and grasped a heavily tarnished brass knob, half-expecting the creaking of aged wood and rusted hinges that met her ears as she pulled the door open.

Despite her inner-ramblings to the contrary, she still couldn't push away how much she felt like she had suddenly fallen into a _Silent Hill_ game as she ventured down the hallway. The dull, thudding echo of her own footfalls made her feel as though she was waiting to hear radio static, about to see the shadowy edge of something lurking just around the bend of the corridor before some hideously twisted _thing _burst out from another area entirely, intent on eating her face clean off of her skull!

Kagome couldn't help halting at that thought, her head cocking to one side. Okay . . . even _with_ all that had occurred in her little world as of late, _that_ scenario was still _beyond_ far-fetched and _only_ good for scaring herself silly. Eyes rolling at her own ridiculous imaginings, she stamped a small, hiking boot-encased foot and determinedly started down the hall again.

Reaching the classroom- having limited space to begin with, they'd been stuck in one of the rooms that had only one window, facing a vacant alleyway, no less- she knocked and then clasped her hands behind her back, waiting patiently. A few seconds of silence passed. Could it be that he was in the bathroom? Gently creaking the door open, she poked her head in and peered around, finding him resting his head on his desk.

"Awww," she murmured quietly to herself, slipping as soundlessly as she could into the room and easing the door closed behind her.

Bearing her previous branding as less than super-stealthyin mind, she crept delicately to the front of the classroom. Maybe he was just resting, she considered, as she stared at the long silver hair draping loosely down his back.

"Professor?" she said gently in an attempt to wake him, but he didn't stir.

Frowning, she reached to grasp his shoulder and stopped, her hand so close to touching him that she could _just_ feel the fabric of his shirt brushing beneath the pads of her fingertips. It wasn't exactly that she thought Professor Taisho would snap at her or anything of that sort, but perhaps waking him in such a way with how he'd been acting recently wasn't the best idea she'd ever had. Her eyes rolled yet again- it wasn't as though she'd been having even-marginally-okay ideas lately, at all.

Nodding decisively to the empty room, she reached awkwardly around him to snatch up a pen and sheet of memo paper. She would have left the message on the chalk board behind him, but there was the chance he wouldn't turn to see it before leaving the room and a hell of a lot of good it would do for him when they returned later in the week. Pausing as she was about to set pen to paper, Kagome gave a tiny, miffed frown- _why_ was she delivering someone else's message _again?_

"I am just too damned nice, that's why," she grumbled to herself as she at last scribbled down the message- checking her watch so she could note the time for him in case he napped for a while longer- and carefully wedged the sheet beneath the professor's folded arm.

She turned away- denying that seeing his hair loose made her want to touch the gleaming, pale strands so badly her fingertips positively itched with it- and started back across the room. It was something in that thought alone that made her still her movement. Her gaze dropped to the floor as she tried to put her finger on it. Even when the professor had traversed through jungle half-asleep to drag her out of the site at nearly three in the morning, his hair had been tied back, sloppily, but still an obvious attempt had been made.

She felt her spine pull straight as she realized it. Professor Taisho _never_ wore his hair loose, the only time she'd ever seen it down was when he was-

"Hello, little priestess," she heard the silky, even murmur behind her.

For a long moment, Kagome couldn't bring herself to budge, still ashamed of how she'd responded to their last encounter. Oh, and why had she even _thought_ that she would be safe from him during the day time? There had been a logical reason for thinking that way, she was sure, but now she simply couldn't grasp it. Distantly she felt Lyka twitch, but after a near week of beating the wisp of foreign consciousness into submission at the slightest provocation the spirit was reluctant to put up much more of a fuss than that, even with Kagome's clear recognition of the being behind her.

And as she didn't know how The Thief would respond to her new guest, she was going to do everything in her power to keep him from finding out about it for as long as she could. Maybe he'd help Kagome for his own reasons, maybe he'd decide he wanted to complete what he'd started centuries ago and help Lyka somehow gain control over Kagome to make that possible.

"Are you choosing to not face me even when I give you the opportunity?" Nah Rah Ku quipped, a hint of amusement just barely coloring his level cadence.

Squeezing her eyes tightly shut in agitation, she refrained from stamping her foot before slowly pivoting on a heel to look at him. He stood beside the desk, causing her to note that she'd not even heard the chair scrape against the floor when he'd first gotten up, arms folded casually across his chest and a hip leaned against it. Gods, he was even starting to stand with Professor Taisho's posture!

She forced a small squeak of a gulp down her throat as it occurred to her- if the demon was picking up things from the professor, than maybe the demon's cohabitation was the thing triggering the professor's unusually possessive behavior. "We . . . we can't do this _here_, you have to know that, right?"

"Oh?" A tiny smirk curled one corner of his lips. "And why is that, precisely?"

"Be- because," without moving her gaze, she did her best to take stock of the desk top with her peripheral vision, "Miroku's expecting us at the garage."

His smirk widened almost imperceptibly. "Hmph, as I am aware," he reached an arm down, swiping up her note between two fingers and holding it for her to see, "we yet have 'at least' an hour to ourselves."

Kagome allowed a miserable groan to escape her as he let the paper drift back to the desk top and crooked a finger, beckoning her closer. Head falling back, she stared daggers at the ceiling as she dragged her feet to move toward him with heavy, plodding footsteps. She couldn't help herself from stopping just out of arm's reach of him.

The amusement in his expression faded as he took a step back and rounded the desk to kick the professor's chair out of the way. Kagome jumped a little- as much at the minute flaring of his temper as at the noise created by the chair ricocheting off the wall, the impact sounding so harsh and jarring that it was a wonder the wood hadn't splintered on contact.

Squaring his jaw, Nah Rah Ku pointed to a spot directly between himself and the desk. "I want you _here,_" he said slowly, his voice not betraying that flicker of wrath.

She realized then that she'd been forgetting some very important points about her situation . . . that _he_ was in control, that he was an ancient creature of myth and that he had a long history of getting his way. There was precious little chance that she could stop him from taking what he wanted from her by force if she caused him decide such a thing was necessary. The display hadn't been meant to frighten her- though she expected that to be a side effect he didn't mind in the slightest- it had been intended as a reminder of these things.

Forcing a herself to give a small nod, Kagome continued forward, lowering her eyes as she edged around the desk and turned to face him. In the back of her mind, she was acknowledging something very numbing that threatened to blot out this moment and its stark realizations entirely.

He allowed her a moment, once more folding his arms across his chest as he stared down at her. She seemed . . . strangely off today. He expected an argument, some snippy and brash comment as she'd drawn closer to him, but there was no such fire behind her eyes now. In a bizarre way, her lack of response . . . bothered him. The Thief brushed this bit of ridiculousness aside- it was only a hindrance as it might prove to delay his receipt of her offering.

"Tell me," he murmured levelly, stepping toward her so that she was completely trapped between his body and the desk. "Just what it is that has you so very . . ." dropping his arms he crooked a finger beneath her chin and lifted her face, leaning down close to her, "uncharacteristically subdued?"

Kagome held herself on the very cusp of trembling, the feel of his breath whispering over her lips as he'd spoken making the delicate skin tingle pleasantly. "You don't really care, so please don't insult me by pretending you do."

He offered a lazy shrug as he pushed her long hair back off of her shoulders and began unbuttoning her shirt. "Indulge me."

Her eyelids drooped nearly against her will as his hands slid over her breasts, fingertips dragging over her delicately as though he was examining the fabric of her bra. "Funny, I th-" she drew in a halting gasp at the feel of his claws raking lightly across her nipples. "I thought I already was."

A silver brow quirked incrementally. "It would seem you enjoy testing my patience, little priestess."

She curled a lip in a girly version of a snarl, forcing her eyes open to meet his gaze even as he continued stroking her skin. "Okay, you want to know what's wrong? I'm angry 'cause I don't like how you're changing the professor."

Surprisingly, he lifted both brows at this, his ministrations stilling for a moment. "Of what in all the bloody planes of existence do you speak?"

Kagome could only stare back at him in obvious disbelief- how could he _not_ know what he was doing to the man? "He's acting . . ._weird_ because of you!"

"Weird in what such way?"

Blue eyes rolled. "Oh my go- . . . you have access to his thoughts and you expect me to buy that you don't know what I'm talking about?"

In response inhuman gold eyes narrowed to mere slits. "I only have his perspective from which to view things, therefore if he is not noticing an oddness to his behavior it would not stand out in my mind, either."

Her expression soured- she didn't really believe that he was innocent in this . . . or in anything . . . that had ever happened . . . _ever!_"So you _don't_ know that he's been acting all possessive when I deal with other guys?"

The faint hinting of humor leaked back into the demon's face as his fingers began moving over her again. "I am not capable of directly influencing his actions or behavior. The only thing my presence would do to a host is enhance that which already exists."

Kagome blinked rapidly a few times, trying to process that. After forcing herself to accept The Thief as the reason behind the change in Professor Taisho it was nearly impossible for her to grasp that there was no such influence taking place; he _had_ to be lying.

"What_ever_," she muttered, bracing her palms on either side of her against the desk and turning her face away from him- if he wanted his stupid offering, he could just take it and be done with it, whatever it would take to get this jerk to settle back into dormancy for another week. "I don't like you using his body to do things _he_ would never do."

Nah Rah Ku uttered a sound that made her think he had just restrained himself from bursting out in laughter. A long, quiet moment passed and she finally dragged her eyes to him, but kept her face turned away. He looked like he was waiting for her to say more . . . and as though he suddenly thought her to be the most adorably naïve creature in all of existence.

When she spoke no further, he shook his head minutely. "You truly have no idea, do you?"

She didn't like the spark lighting in those golden depths, didn't like that she had to concentrate so very hard to keep her body from responding to him. Forcibly she tore her gaze from his. He leaned closer, still, bringing his lips close enough to brush over her throat just below her ear as he elaborated in a velvety whisper. "I am surprised at just how little you know this Sesshomaru. You do not know that he wishes so _very_ much that he could have you in the way I do?"

Kagome felt her heart flutter at that, but pushed it away- she had no reason to believe him. "You're lying and you don't _have_ me, you're just using me until you can find some other way to survive and we both know it."

"Hmph, how little you understand things." He eased her bra out of the way, sliding his palms over her breasts and she couldn't stop herself from trembling at the skin-to-skin contact. "This Sesshomaru thinks of you . . . as you are in _this_ moment." His warm breath ghosted over her throat as he continued, "He imagines fucking your brains out, little priestess." Her body began disobeying her then and she felt that sweet, moistening warmth starting between her legs. "He wonders what you taste like. _You_ do not know . . . that he thinks about how it would feel to slide himself inside of you. It makes this Sesshomaru so _painfully_ hard to imagine you beneath him, writhing and crying out for him."

Kagome shuddered, unable to stop her mind from picturing those very things. She was snapped, tragically, back into the moment by the feel of his hands trailing down from her breasts and low over her abdomen to begin opening her pants.

"I still don't believe you," she muttered weakly, knowing he'd successfully whittled down her defenses with just a few sentences.

"Yes, you do," he murmured, slowly drawing her zipper downward. "It carries in your scent, your arousal curls off of you in great, winding ribbons. I will tell you something else . . . I let him see you as you are in these moments. I show these images to him as pleasant dreams. If you only knew how often he has awakened to find his bed clothes in need of a good cleaning because of you . . . ."

"So it is you making him act like this," she reasoned aloud with a tremor in her voice, feeling as though her entire body was blushing as he began pushing her pants and underwear down over her hips.

"As previously stated, I only enhance such things, even as I . . . _share_ with this Sesshomaru he had such thoughts before I came to possess him."

Kagome felt oddly detached as she watched him pull her just a little away from the desk and yanked her pants down to bunch around her ankles. The little voice in her head seemed to be running in frantic circles, worrying aloud over whether he could _actually_be telling the truth- with each circle, it seemed to pause for a moment, giving Lyka a sound slap for good measure to be certain she remained subdued. In more immediate lines of thought, she became concerned suddenly that her current state of awkward, near-undress meant he was going to simply spin her around, bend her over the desk and-

"Hold up a sec," she managed to say, as she forcefully stopped that notion in its tracks. "What are you doing?"

One corner of his mouth curled upward in what could almost be considered an affectionate half-grin. "Rabid concern for your maidenly state rearing again?"

Nodding numbly- she was dazed and aroused and still miffed at him all at the same time- she shrugged. "Look at what you just did. What do you expect me to think?"

Giving a responding nod, he gently cupped a hand between her legs, rubbing the tip of a finger between already dampened folds of delicate feminine flesh. "We have yet to reach that stage, I believe, little priestess. It is my intention," he murmured, withdrawing his hand and slipping his moistened finger into his mouth, clearly savoring it just as he'd done that first night in the temple, "to taste you coming against my tongue."

She didn't know if it was the heat of the moment, the naughty- Naughty, _NAUGHTY_!- mental pictures he'd put into her head of Professor Taisho, The Thief's own manipulative power or _what_, but his words alone sent a delicious little shiver of desire quaking through her. Instantly she found herself seated on the desk, remembering in a bizarre, in-the-moment type of hindsight how he'd clamped his hands over her hips, lifted her as though she weighed nothing at all and set her here.

As had happened before- she recalled somewhat dully- she was trying to grasp at things outside of this moment, but the look in his eyes as said, "Lay back, little priestess," sent any semblance of logic scampering away from her.

She did as instructed, watching him with what was almost fascination as he took her ankles in his hands and raised them up, allowing himself room the kneel before the desk. Kagome half-expected him to lower her legs again, to drape them over his shoulders, but he held them there, only slipping one hand away- using the bunched up fabric of her pants to easily keep her ankles pinned together with the other- and delicately parted her.

He managed a half-smile that was just a bit savage, then, lifting his gaze to hers for only a moment as he spoke. "I believe I should tell you this Sesshomaru's darkest wants more often. I have but barely touched you and yet you have already ripened so very sweetly here."

Kagome gasped sharply as he lapped his tongue over that sensitive little bead, automatically bringing her hands to cup the back of his head, fingers curling into his hair. Inwardly he gave a triumphant grin at this before uttering a small, almost content-sounding sigh and sealing his lips around it.

His tongue flicked over her in fast, swirling motions and she found her hips beginning to rock against the desk, beneath his mouth. She couldn't help crying out every time he withdrew the tip of his expertly working tongue to nibble and delicately scrape his teeth against her. Dimly she registered one of his hands wandering over her thighs now and the one holding her ankles was no longer there, but where- _oh_, she couldn't think with his mouth drawing on her in quick, suckling pulls . . . .

A loud, shocked moan escaped her as he slowly, delicately entered her with two fingers. It stung a little, but beyond that . . . as he withdrew and pushed into her again and again, faster and perhaps just a little deeper each time, Kagome forgot that first mildly painful sensation, her body moving not just in rhythm with the working of his mouth, but raising to meet his delving hand.

Her fingers gripped tightly into his hair, her own voice sounding distant and alien to her ears as she heard herself begging him for more in a breathy, heated whisper. The demon's response was a low, purring growl as the hand on her thigh held tightly to her now, the tips of his claws burning as they unintentionally broke her skin. She was finding it a little difficult to make her body go taut curled up as she was, but she pushed herself, lifting her hips off the desk entirely and pressing herself against the sweet pressure of his teeth and tongue more firmly, halting her movements to allow him to take over completely.

He complied instantly with her need, thrusting his fingers into her faster, swirling his tongue over that precious little bead of flesh he so adored in rapid, steady motions. He could feel it the moment the orgasm began to wash over her, bright, glimmering and so deliciously intense. She loathed him, but oh how she _wanted_ what he gave to her. His little priestess was so innocent still . . . as he plunged his fingers inside of her, every withdrawal, every moment of sliding inside of her again reminded him of this . . . she was so warm and wet and _tight_. When the time came, _he_ would be the one to fill her, he was suddenly and inexplicably determined on this.

Kagome wanted to clamp her hands over her mouth, to stifle her own dimly echoing moans, but she couldn't move- she was afraid that if she even tried the dizzying spirals of ecstasy dancing through her would end. She could hear the demon's growls changing the longer his mouth suckled at her- the content, purr-like sound replaced by something that reminded her of a starved beast feasting on its prey.

All too soon it was slipping away from her, but she forced her hips into motion, beneath his mouth, against his hand, trying desperately to cling to the sensation just a little longer. He swirling strokes of his tongue and rapid plunging of his fingers slowed steadily, helping her through the brilliant, thunderous aftershocks of her orgasm until she nearly collapsed beneath him.

For a long moment he let her simply lay there, resting and collecting herself. Surely the following minutes would play out exactly as they had after her last two offerings. She was going to gather herself up and begin acting as though he was simply some burden she was putting up with at any second and the little spit fire likely needed her strength for that. He merely knelt there as he waited patiently for this to happen, his head still between her thighs and pillowed against one of them as he painstakingly licked every drop of her from his fingers. In truth, he found her little outbursts both mildly amusing and utterly harmless.

When her breathing had finally calmed she looked down at him, for once finding the fading glow in his eyes fascinating somehow. "Can I put my legs down, now?"

The Thief raised his head, almost comically peering at her from between her still-upraised legs as though he'd never seen her before. "Of course."

Nodding, she waited for him to push away from the desk and stand, instead, he pulled the professor's now beaten-up chair over and threw himself into it. Lowering her legs, she immediately bounced up to step away from the desk . . . _tried_ to immediately bounce up, which- with her pants around her ankles and her knees still wobbly post-orgasm- proved to be more of a stumbling-off-of-the-desk episode.

Silver eyebrows crept upward, putting a thin crinkles into the blue waxing crescent gracing his forehead as he watched the spectacle. It was shamefully amusing to see the petite female attempt to look dignified as she wrenched her pants up from around her ankles after almost breaking her neck because she had tripped over her own two feet.

As she zipped up her pants, fixed her skewed bra and began buttoning her shirt, she remembered the near-heart attack she'd had in the temple the last time The Thief had _tasted_ her. "Oh . . . oh, no. This was really bad . . . ."

Nah Rah Ku tapped his chin as he tried to sort through her nonsense, but gave up almost instantly and offered a light shrug as he folded his arms across his chest, waiting for her to elaborate. Modern females were such strange creatures. He dearly hoped when they got to a more civilized and information-rich place he would find text that would aid him in deciphering _women_.

"Okay, okay," she began straightening her shirt almost compulsively as she explained, "your first um . . . 'offering' from me- Professor Taisho started to ask me what happened because you tasted me! Oh my gods, how could you- what am I going to say when he 'wakes up' and he tastes . . . well, a girl in his mouth?"

"Ah," nodding slowly, he gestured for her to step away from the desk- at the moment, confusing his host would only only cause himself undue problems- and scooted the chair forward. Opening a side drawer, he produced a pack of overpowering mint gum and held it up for her to see. "As I understand it, this will cover the taste of anything, yes?"

Kagome quirked a brow. The Thief really _did _think matters through. This could prove to be a huge problem for her in the future, she just knew it could. "That's the general idea of it."

With another nod, he unwrapped a piece and popped it into his mouth determinedly chewing and using his tongue to scrub it over his teeth. She thought she might fall down laughing at the mixture of shock and disgust that passed over the demon's face as he neatly tied his hair back.

Folding his arms over the desk, he gave an angry frown- it was the most expressive thing she'd ever seen from him. "It is revolting. I do not understand why one would subject themselves to such torment."

Blue eyes darted around the room as she processed this, finding it difficult to reconcile The Thief from legend- the same beast that had nearly shattered a chair without even trying over a moment of being made to wait just earlier with the almost whiny, spoiled creature she was glimpsing now. Maybe demons were as complex as humans? _No, _little voice had stopped its rampaging circles a little while ago and was now shaking a metaphorical finger at her, _don't start thinking that this _thing_ is anything like a human!_

Nodding to herself, she turned away and started out of the room again. "The next time I see that form, I expect the professor to be the one at the helm."

Nah Rah Ku's expression darkened as he lowered his head toward his folded arms. "Do you know every time you speak such rubbish I am forced to access this Sesshomaru's memories to understand your meaning?"

"No, and I don't care," she murmured nearly to herself, pausing at the door for a long moment.

When no more self-important rambling came from behind her, she chanced a peek over her shoulder. He's laid his head down and she thought she saw his markings fading away. Drawing in a silent, weary sigh, she hung her head. She knew it was stupid to believe anything The Thief had told her, but . . . she couldn't help wishing that those things about Professor Taisho were true.

Shaking her head at herself in a mix of hopelessness and agitation- really, even if it was true, it wouldn't matter, he'd never act on it, there was simply too much at stake for both of them- she reached for the door and quietly let herself out into the corridor. Her lids drifted down, cooling a sudden burning in her eyes. How were so many things in her life such a mess because of the intrusion of this_one_ being the fates had decided to throw at her?

She turned to start down the corridor and distinctly heard footfalls behind her.

Whirling on her heel, she was immediately met with a pair of chocolate brown eyes staring down at her. "Mi- Miroku!" Kagome managed with as much feigned brightness as she could muster. "Are they done with the truck already?"

He gave a half-nod, something in his expression setting a thin sheen of ice over her stomach. "Almost, actually. I came by about five, maybe ten minutes ago to tell the professor we didn't have to wait so long . . . ."

She knew he'd deliberately let his words trail off, but she fell into it anyway. "F- five or ten minutes ago?"

Once more he nodded, leaning a palm on the wall behind her and tipping his head to one side. "I almost couldn't believe what I was hearing. I took a walk around the building- thought I'd give you two some time- came back here and see you sneaking out of the room." He cracked a lecherous grin, "Never would have thought you could sound like that. Wow, you and the professor, huh?"

Kagome was stunned into silence, her eyes slowly growing wider and wider as she gaped up at him, unprepared for his next question, entirely.

"What's it worth to you to keep that quiet?"


	13. The Advantage of Misunderstanding

**Chapter Thirteen**

The Advantage of Misunderstanding

Kagome swallowed a nervous giggle as she forced a stiff, clueless smile. "What are you talking about? I don't know what you _think _you heard, but-"

"Wow, you must think I'm an idiot," he quipped with a chuckle. "It's simple," he continued, raising his other hand to gently sweep her hair back over her shoulder. "I will keep my mouth shut about you and the professor if I can get a little of what he's getting."

Her jaw dropped and for a long moment she simply couldn't form a response, not even in her head. She thought he was a nice guy . . . aside from his flirtatious nature- could it be that wasn't just a flirt, but really a lech like his past reputation hinted at? She let her eyes fall to his hand as it came to rest on her shoulder.

"No, Miroku!" She shrugged out from beneath his touch and sidestepped along the wall to put space between them, then it occurred to her that perhaps he'd not thought this through. "You've got to be kidding me. Don't you know what telling other people would do to Professor Taisho's career?"

His brow furrowed, but sooner than he could allow it to sink in, his mouth was going again. "Well, I could always go to the Professor and tell him I know, tell him that I can't . . . in good conscience let you two keep at this."

Kagome felt her teeth clench so hard she thought she'd pop a filling. He'd pegged her weakness as surely as Nah Rah Ku had. If he told the Professor . . . well, hell, there was no way she could talk herself out of _that_, no matter how much she internally rehearsed _what-if_ responses. She couldn't let this happen! Worse yet, there was a snowball's chance in hell that Miroku would believe she was a virgin after the sounds he'd heard her making- what if he demanded more of her than even the demon had?

"You," she tried, her voice faltering a little, "you really can't be asking this, Miroku, you can't, okay?"

Miroku propped a hand on his hip, scratching at his scalp with the other. "Um, why not?"

She cracked open the classroom door and peered inside quickly, finding the professor only just beginning to stir from his nap. "Because it's wrong- like wronger than what you heard happening, okay? You have to know that," she hissed in an unhappy whisper as she let the door close again.

"Are you going to give me a lecture about two wrongs not making a right?"

Instantly she was picturing Sango's face if she found herself in the position of having to share _this_ discussion with her friend. "Oh my gods," she muttered, feeling herself on the verge of tears, "I can't believe Sango has fallen for an asshole like you."

Miroku gave a start at that, pulling himself out of his normal, slouching posture to stand pin-straight. "What did you just say?"

"I _said _you're an asshole."

"No," he said with a shake of his head, before giving an embarrassed laugh at himself. "Before that . . . about Sango."

Kagome blinked a few times, finally dragging her gaze back up to his. "That she's fallen for you." The simple, stark realization came crashing down on her. "You didn't know?"

He turned his back to the wall, letting his weight sink into the solid support of the old brick work. "No . . ." he said slowly, a mystified look on his face. "I thought . . . I thought that _she_ thought we were just messing around. I had no idea . . . ."

She gave a small, relieved laugh. "Can I guess that you wouldn't have even tried this if you knew how she felt?"

He nodded almost imperceptibly, looking just a hint awestruck. "I am _so _sorry, Kagome, I can't _believe_ I just did that. Gods, I don't . . . what is this place _doing_ to me?"

She just barely held back from blanching at the question- he'd said it to himself, but the phrasing caught her attention. He most likely only meant that he'd never stooped_ this _low before, so it had to be something other than _him- _she hoped, that was the logical train of thought, after all. Maybe without his realizing it, the site was somehow rubbing off on him. Perhaps it was best to ignore that entirely for the moment, so she went on with the situation at hand.

"Okay," she said, happy that her brain was functioning again. "I'll tell you what- I won't tell Sango what you just pulled if you keep what you know quiet."

He gave another nod.

"No, no. Miroku, I need you to say it. I want your _word _on this. Promise me!"

"You have my word," he held up his fist, "we keep each other's secret."

Giving a nod of her own, Kagome bumped her fist against his. It was just as their hands dropped that the classroom door creaked open. Professor Taisho stepped out looking mildly confused, the note from Kagome held lightly between his lips as he saw to scooping his hair into its customary pony tail. His gaze swept from one person slouching against the wall to the other and back again. One silver brow quirked incrementally as he switched the note to one of his hands.

"Did I miss something?"

"No," Kagome said, forcing a light smile. "Miroku came to tell you the truck's ready now and we bumped into each other after I left you that," she pointed to the piece of paper.

"Yeah, let me go get her from the garage." Miroku piped up with a nod and pushed away from the wall to trot down the corridor.

"Is everything alright?" Professor Taisho asked quietly as they heard the door to the school open and close.

"Fine, why?"

Amber eyes roved for a moment. "No reason." The confused expression came into his face again as he opened his mouth and extracted the wad of gum. "When did I . . . ?" Shaking his head, he put the gum into the paper and balled it up as he turned on a heel. "Are you coming?"

Kagome nearly choked on a gulp of air at that poorly worded question falling from the professor's lips- _oh, if _only_ he knew_- despite her calm demeanor with Miroku, her body was still winding down from The Thief's visit. "Um, I'll be a minute, I need to use the rest room."

Nodding, he turned back, holding out the keys to her. "I can trust you to lock up behind yourself, can't I?"

She took them, offering a nod in response and heading off for the teachers' restroom. Once inside she flicked the switch, bringing a single bare bulb to life and spun to rest her back against the door for a long moment. Disaster had been averted. At least on one level. Prying herself from the worn wood, she went about using the facilities, a little surprised to see the wounds on her leg. It already felt like forever ago, but she remembered the burning tingle of Nah Rah Ku's claws piercing her skin.

Kagome felt a little silly venturing out of the toilet stall with her pants- yet again- around her ankles. Shaking her head at her own reflection in the scuffed and aged mirror, she grabbed a rough brown paper towel and ran cold water over it. She gritted her teeth tightly, bracing herself as she pressed the makeshift compress over the broken skin. It forced a hissing breath to escape her lips._Gods_, she hoped she didn't have anymore incidents that involved physical examinations- she had no clue how she'd explain _this_.

She could feel Lyka chuckling lightly in the back of her head. Certainly she'd been quiet when they'd been faced with The Thief, but then Kagome knew that it was only because Lyka finally grasped that her _host's_ temper wasn't something to be trifled with and feared the potential backlash from Kagome's responding anger. The spirit was still luxuriating in the afterglow of what the demon had given them. Oh, and how Kagome _hated_ thinking of this speck of Lyka's consciousness as part of herself, but until she could remove it, that was sort of how things were. Perhaps there was a way she could communicate with it?

A light grimace flickered across her features at the thought as Kagome righted her clothing. She was pretty sure she didn't want to listen to _anything_ Lyka had to say. It was strange, but in this context it was almost as though she trusted Nah Rah Ku, but refused to trust Lyka, but then- she reasoned as she dried her hands and switched off the light to exit back into the corridor- The Thief had never pretended to be anything more than what he was, he'd never actually lied to Kagome. Certainly, he'd manipulated her, but he'd done it using the _truth_, both about himself and about her situation. Lyka, on the other hand, had made herself seem like some helpless lingering entity that had needed Kagome's aid. She would be damned if she was going to let Lyka pull the wool over her eyes again.

_Fool me once,_ she thought with a shake of her head as she pushed the main door open and stepped out into the bright mid-afternoon sunlight, remembering somewhat absently to lock it behind her.

"Higurashi, over here," she heard, turning toward the professor's voice to see him standing outside of the town's single, barren and rundown little cafe.

He was holding a large paper cup, but didn't appear to be sipping from it, only inhaling deeply of the contents. Even from a distance the sunlight brightened his eyes and threw dazzling streaks of glittering stark-white throughout his hair. She was reminded of one of her previous- and markedly more frivolous- thoughts about their situation. That things would probably be easier on her if he wasn't so _damned_ pretty.

Quirking a brow, she wandered over to join him, aware of the sound of their rented truck bumbling up the road behind her. Miroku pulled up in front of the professor just as she reached him. She handed Professor Taisho back his keys and continued to watch him curiously.

After a moment, he cracked a barely perceptible wisp of a half-grin and held the cup toward her. "Tell me what you smell."

Kagome took half a step backward, her face pulling into a scowl that was equal parts curious and mistrustful. "Why?"

Amber eyes narrowed fractionally. "Tell me what you smell," he repeated evenly.

Her own eyes rolling, she stepped toward him again and leaned over the cup, inhaling lightly. "Oh . . . my _gods,"_ she took a much deeper breath this time, "is this . . . ." she didn't want to finish the question, it seemed too good to be true.

The professor gave a small nod. "Real coffee."

She couldn't help squeaking out a gasp of delight. Not entirely thinking it through, she slid her fingers up over his hand and tipped the cup to her lips, taking a long swig of wonderfully rich, pure, _real_ coffee. Blue eyes drifted closed as she pulled the cup away a little and savored the wonderful- wonderful, _wonderful_- taste. Opening her eyes again, she saw Professor Taisho staring down at her.

She wished moments like this were how things could always be between them. The knowledge that they couldn't made her heart ache.

After a moment of staring at one another in silence, the professor finally said, "I could simply get you one of your own."

"Oh," she managed an embarrassed giggle at herself, "sorry. Um, if you don't mind, yes, I'd very much like a cup."

Nodding, he slid his hand from her fingers and turned to walk back to the cafe counter.

"OH, could we get some grounds to bring back, maybe?" she called almost thoughtlessly.

He turned his head, not enough to look at her, only to acknowledge that he heard her. "I'll see if that's possible."

Grinning like a fool- who knew coffee could be so powerful- she climbed into the back of the truck. It was oddly refreshing to be able to buckle her seat belt. When she looked up from this, she caught Miroku's gaze in the rear view mirror.

"Listen Kagome," he muttered, swinging his gaze around to keep it locked on his boss still in the cafe. "I want to just . . . say I'm really sorry, again."

"We don't have to talk about this ever again, ya know." Really, she'd be happy if she could strip the memory right out of her head.

"I . . . had no idea you and Professor Taisho are actually _in_ a relationship."

Kagome almost jumped out of her skin at those words, alone. ". . . _What_?"

"I'm sorry, okay. I _seriously_ thought you two were just . . . ya know, messing around."

She thought her heart was going to stop. "Miroku," she whimpered, her eyes going wide, "what are you talking about?"

"Okay, I think after what happened in the school, I'm probably the one person you don't have to play dumb with, Kagome. I promised you I won't say a word, and I'm going to keep that, but I have to tell you that if you two don't tone it down a bit, more people are going to pick up on what's going on."

"I . . . I'm just . . . _what_?"

It occurred to Miroku, then, that she simply might not have realized what he'd seen that had triggered the discussion. "Look, okay, yes, we _both_ know I heard what was going on in that classroom. I thought the two of you were just . . . ya know, working out frustrations, fooling around, whatever. But you guys just went all lovey-eyed over a shared cup of coffee. You two just _can't_ do that shit around other people, understand? I mean, now it all makes sense with the way he's been acting when he sees anyone even looking at you at the site, but I think I'm the only one who's really given that any thought since I'm the one that's around him the most. I mean, I thought he was going to rip poor Bruckner's head off."

Kagome rolled her eyes in aggravation, burying her face in her hands. "Oh my gods." _But_, she supposed, _it's not that bad as far as misinterpretations go, at least it seems to have given him more reason to keep his mouth shut._

"Look, I'm hardly one to talk about relationships, but ya know, love_ is _blind. Just . . . try to make sure you guys aren't so obvious anymore, okay?"

She managed a numb nod, letting her hands fall back into her lap as the professor made his way out of the cafe.

"One more thing," he muttered.

"Seriously?" she whined as Professor Taisho neared the vehicle.

"Have you told Sango about you two?"

"Huh?" She gave that a brief second of mulling over, supposing she would at least have to tell Sango about Miroku's misunderstanding of the situation- maybe then Sango could get Miroku to help cover up her trysts with the demon, should such a thing ever be necessary. "Not yet, but I will."

"Once we get back?" he edged lightly as the professor opened the passenger side door.

"Yes, once we get back."

Professor Taisho turned in his seat, handing Kagome her cup and tossing the bag of ground coffee on the empty seat next to her. "Once we get back, what?"

"He just wanted to make sure I let Sango know we've got real coffee," she offered quickly, "Miroku thinks I'll keep it all to myself."

"Dammit, Miroku," the professor said with a light chuckle, "we _were_ going to keep it all to ourselves."

Miroku caught Kagome's gaze in the rear view once more and gave her a reassuring nod. She sat back and opened the flimsy plastic cap on her cup as the truck rumbled to life and started moving. At the moment it was hard to decipher how she felt about what was going on between her and the professor. She was elated that he _apparently_ felt more for her than she had let herself believe, but . . . she couldn't imagine that this knowledge would make the other aspect of her situation any easier on her.

For just a second, though, it was nice to imagine that _someday_ she would have the freedom to get lovey-eyed with Taisho_Sesshomaru_ over a shared cup of coffee in front of anyone they damn well pleased. At last she took a sip of her coffee and nearly burned her lip. Blinking, she pulled it back and peered into the cup. It was filled nearly to the brim. Why hadn't the professor given her the cup she'd stolen that long sip from? It seemed only fair.

She chanced a peek in his direction. The professor wasn't drinking his coffee, merely running the tip of a finger along the rim where the plastic cover opened as he stared off into the lush, passing scenery. Angling her head a little, she managed to catch a glimpse of his face in the side view mirror. He looked so peaceful, if distracted entirely.

As she pushed herself to sit right again, she realized the spot he looked to be caressing so tenderly was exactly the place where she'd touched her lips to the cup.


	14. The Victims of Time

**Chapter Fourteen**

The Victims of Time

Kagome frowned darkly, ducking this way and that as she tried- apparently in vain- to catch glimpses of what was going on at the new research tent that had been set up through the open entrance way of the mess-tent. It was just so bloody unfair that just thinking about the situation made it difficult for her to see straight.

_She_ was the one to stumble over the find, after all! And it was hardly as though she wanted any part of the actual, proverbial heavy-lifting, but if they would only allow her to _actually_ assist somehow. But noooo . . . . The team's forensics specialist refused to allow the interns to do anything more than catalog any artifacts that might be found amongst the bodies. . . . _Bodies . . . ?_ That was an overstatement- they'd been no more than skeletons, really. If they'd been buried in dry earth, or a more arid environment, the_specimens_- though Kagome was still getting a grip on thinking of them in such clinical terms- might have been better preserved, but the nutrient rich soil of the cavern, not to mention the moisture of the subterranean surroundings, had instead aided the decomposition of The Thief's sacrifices.

It was what the mournful feeling had been leading her to; the vast-seeming entity hadn't been one, but many smaller voices acting in unison. She'd understood when the first one had been delicately unearthed why they'd recoiled in fear from Nah Rah Ku's host. In the hindsight of lingering here after death, they'd understood that his existence hadn't required the end of theirs, and how foolish they'd been to offer their very lives so readily.

She might have considered it odd that finding the remains of these women didn't make her feel disgusted by her intimate dealings with The Thief, but then she had already known the truth of his previous existence, hadn't she? Perhaps if he had ever made efforts to hide his true nature she would be horrified, but such was simply not the case. The incredible, if markedly morbid, find had only served to solidify the reality she'd already been forced to accept about him.

The discovery of the mass grave had been Kagome's doing and yet she was barely allowed to do anything more important than bring Doctor Hernandez his coffee. She was, of course, deliberately ignoring for the moment that cataloging antiquities was, in fact, a highly important facet of archeological field work. The insinuation that she wasn't capable of more taxing duties was downright insulting.

Sango watched her friend's impatient fidgeting over the rim of her mug for a long moment before giving a long, heavy sigh- grateful they practically alone, as the other interns in the tent were far enough across the enclosed space that they wouldn't be overheard so long as they controlled their voices. "Will you calm down? You've got all the subtlety of a caribou performing Swan Lake right about now."

Kagome hissed out a meager, huffing breath as her little shoulders slumped. "I know, I know. I just . . . can't help it. Doc Hern is being _so_ unreasonable. I mean, _assisting_ is what the interns are here to _do, _but he acts like we're just a bunch of stupid little kids, skipping about the site, bumbling with everything and knocking things over and stuff. It's . . . it's infuriating!"

"Okay, well," Sango picked a buffalo wing off of the tray they were sharing from and took a thoughtful nibble, giving the taste a nod of approval before continuing. "You have to consider the source. Doc Hern is like, what, eighty?"

Kagome sniggered. "He's like sixty-seven or something. He just _looks_ like he's eighty; too many years in forensic archeology pruned him up under the desert sun, I think."

"Okay, close enough- my point is that to _him _we probably do seem like just a bunch of little kids messing around."

"Still," Kagome all but growled the word, "it just gets under my skin when people act like they were just born as experts in their field and the rest of us are just . . . sad little morons for having to go through the tedium of _learning _rather than simply knowing _everything_like they do." She took a ferocious bite of a buffalo wing and chewed like she was angry at the poor chicken.

Sango's brows shot up into her bangs at the unexpected venom in the girl's voice. "I'm beginning to get the sense that this is about more than just Doc Hern's 'whipper-snapper' rants."

Blue eyes rolled impatiently as Kagome put down the wing and dabbed her fingertips on a napkin. "I . . . look, I know, okay? It's . . ." pausing, she glanced around and then leaned forward over the table a little, dropping her voice even lower than it had already been. "I just feel like I'm . . . like I owe these women something. They _died _at the hands of the same being- and for the same reason- that has spared _my life._ That thought just mucks around in my head and it makes me feel obligated to help them."

"You already _did._ . . . Hello? You _found_ them. Without them 'sensing' that they could reach out to_ you_, they would still be lost."

Kagome allowed a sigh to slip out and settled her chin on her hands atop the table. "I guess, but . . . I just wish I knew if _that_ was enough. If I could just know how close they've come to any determinations, how long it will be before they can actually put those women to rest, the more at ease I would probably feel about this whole thing. I just hate being kept out of the loop like this- a loop _I_started, thank you very much."

Giving a shrug, Sango reasoned aloud- almost surprised that these things didn't occur to Kagome without nudging. "Well, you're overlooking the easiest way you have to find out about what's going on in that tent."

Kagome's brow furrowed. "Which would be what?"

"Ask Professor Taisho."

"Oh," Kagome went a hint wide-eyed at the idea, feeling a little thrill run through her at the mere mention of his name that was part giddy butterflies in the stomach, part plain old nervousness. "I . . . I guess I could."

"You're shy to be around him now, huh?"

True to her word, Kagome hadn't told Sango about Miroku's botched advances toward her. Even had she wanted to, she couldn't bring herself to do it, especially since she couldn't be certain that he'd been in control of his actions, that it wasn't some how a residual influence of The Thief. She had, instead, offered her friend an edited version of things, that Miroku had only overheard, what she'd eloquently referred to as, _the moment of offering _and had simply assumed she and the professor to be _lovers_, though even just the thought of that wording in context to herself and Professor Taisho caused her to blush furiously.

Managing a tiny shrug, Kagome carefully nibbled clean a second wing and set the bone on the side of the tray before replying. "Yeah. I know it probably seems silly, but ever since Miroku told me what he was 'seeing', I guess I have sort of become . . . well, you said it, 'shy' to be alone with the professor."

"Shyer than being alone with him when the sole danger was a lust demon with anger management issues taking control of his body?"

"Just kind of, yeah. I'd thought that finding out he had feelings for me would be like this amazing moment of relief, at the very least, but it just . . ." she frowned thoughtfully, "but it just made everything _real. _Like I used to be really spectacular at ignoring what I was feeling because I always just thought it was this stupid, one-sided, little girl crush, but _knowing_ that it's more than that- that it could be a _lot_ more than that at some point- makes the idea of being alone with him a little . . . scary."

Sango nodded, falling silent for a long moment as she thought that over. "You realize that if anything goes down between you two, than you risk wrecking what it was your deal with that Nah Rah Ku thing was geared to protect, right?"

"I know . . . I think we're capable of controlling ourselves, but it's just that this . . . _shift_ makes me think what used to be second nature is suddenly going to be this daunting effort. And it's not like I can talk to him about it. If I even tried he'd clam up and pretend like nothing had changed and then things would get all weird and awkward between him and me. If I could, then at least we could come to some . . . mutual decision about how to deal with each other, but not being able to makes me nervous, since I can tell myself he's the paragon of self-restraint until I'm blue in the face, but for all I know it only seems that way to me because his restraint hasn't been tested like this."

"I guess little things like knowing what he looks like naked and that he dreams about- and I am quoting, here- 'fucking your brains out' doesn't help your mind set about this whole thing either."

Kagome coughed out a small, mirthless laugh, feeling her cheeks warm instantly at these reminders. "No kidding."

Sango didn't envy her friend's predicament- even if there were a few details of it that were _quite_ enviable. "Okay, let's think this through, since we still have three and a half more weeks here and it's not like you can avoid dealing with him. So, did you have a problem being around the the professor after you and Nah Rah Ku started doing the naughty-naughties?"

The odd term- though definitely cute- forced Kagome to giggle in spite of herself. "Um, at first I had thought I would, but the more I dealt with him _as_ the professor, the easier it became for me to make the distinction between _him _andThe Thief."

"Okay," Sango nodded, taking a second with this, as well, "then that's the answer. Separate Professor Taisho- minus Nah Rah Ku- into two separate entities. Think of '_Professor_ Taisho' as that stoic, kind of arrogant guy who's _just_ your mentor, no different from the way you thought of him when we were still on campus. And think of 'Taisho _Sesshomaru', _whoever he is outside of his PHDs," Sango purposefully used the professor's own words to make her point, "as the man who has these feelings for you. Get this set firmly in your mind and maybe you'll be able to easily feign being comfortable and oblivious around him again."

Kagome furrowed her brow as this thought tumbled around in her head. "That . . . makes sense."

"I know, and the best way to start is by dealing with him just as much as you always do and doing something only _you_ can get away with . . . like asking him what's going on in the forensics unit."

Kagome propped an elbow on the table and rested her chin against her palm as she peered at her friend through narrowed eyes. "You are really good at metaphorically backing me into a corner about things."

"I _know_," Sango responded with a warm smile as she picked at another wing, "it's part of the whole best friend gig."

* * *

Seated on the ground outside of his tent with his arms linked loosely around his bent legs, Professor Taisho was completely lacking for stoic propriety at the moment as he faced the sun with his eyes closed, merely enjoying the simple warmth of its rays on his cheeks. A shadow fell across the bright, speckled reddish-orange glow behind his eyelids. Of _course_ the rare occasion that he deigned to indulge in a break would be interrupted by someone. Holding in a sigh, he lifted a hand to shield his eyes from the direct light as he opened them . . . and proceeded to sternly tell himself his pulse hadn't picked up speed at the sight of those familiar blue eyes staring down at him.

"Higurashi," he managed in his usual even tone, his voice not betraying that his mind was forcefully pushing away his most recent- and possibly most pulse-racing- dream of her, pushing away the imagined memory of having her spread before him on his desk like that.

_Gods_, that one had been so _very_ real that if he focused on it enough, he thought he could taste her on his tongue. _Don't be so stupid_, he scolded himself immediately. He would keep his imaginings to himself, keep them tightly reigned. True, though it was, that more than spending nights fulfilling his decidedly inappropriate dreams, he wanted to feel her curled up against him when he awoke the next morning, but the poor girl would probably be mortified at the things running through his mind just a few minutes ago. He was nearly fifteen years her senior, there was simply no _way_ whatever he'd thought he had seen from her amounted to anything more than a passing infatuation. Nothing _could_ come of it being anything more than that, as it was. It didn't matter that she seemed so perfectly matched to him, that was merely their compatible personalities, nothing more.

"Professor," she said brightly, thankfully helping the man to pull himself into the moment at hand.

Kagome fidgeted a bit in place, telling herself it wasn't any of her business to wonder at the source of the hazed, dreamy look that had been in his eyes a second ago because this was _Professor_ Taisho she was speaking to, not Taisho _Sesshomaru._ "Can we talk?"

He gave the minimal quirk of a brow and she knew it was at the slightly hopeful note in her voice, before he nodded and flicked his gaze to a patch of dry grass not far from him. She settled herself down carefully, mirroring his position, but facing him so that the toes of her boots almost scraped against his.

"Why do I get the feeling," he began quietly, "you're going to ask me if Doctor Hernandez has found anything definitive yet?"

Kagome's shoulders slumped as she gave a small, self-deprecating laugh. "Wow, am I really that transparent?"

"Oh, that's not really the case," Professor Taisho assured her with a shake of his head. "But I'm guessing you feel . . . compelled to keep a tab on the progress because it was you that made the discovery." He offered a barely perceptible nod, then. "It's exactly how I would feel in your place, so it's not difficult to assume."

Kagome cracked a grin. "What happened to the old adage about 'never assume, because it makes an ass out of you and me?'"

His brow furrowed ever so lightly at that. "I am going to pretend you didn't just call the person that controls your grade an ass."

"Well, technically I did call myself one, also," she pointed out.

The professor nodded once more. "Hence why I'm feigning ignorance about it. Do you or don't you want to know what's going on in that tent?"

"Yes, yes," she muttered in a bit of a huff. "Yes, professor. I would like to know if Doctor Hernandez has been able to learn anything, yet. Well," she shrugged in a non-committal fashion, "that is if you _can _tell me without bending or violating any sort of regulations."

"Yes, because we've all been going completely by the book thus far," he replied with a hint of a grin. "I can, actually, tell you that he has found _nothing_ as of yet." "

Oh," she said slowly, trying- and failing miserably- to keep the cheery expression plastered on her face, "I . . . I see."

Professor Taisho's brows inched upward fractionally. "No, Higurashi, I don't believe you do. I never thought I would need to say this to _you_, but you aren't thinking hard enough. What does a forensic scientist look for when examining a potential homicide victim?"

Kagome frowned, not really needing to think on that at all. "Cause of death . . . oh my gods," blue eyes lit up instantly, "so the fact that he hasn't found anything actually narrows down what the cause of death _could _be . . . right?" It was hardly as though she was_expecting _Doc Hern to find anything so easy to classify- after all, how often were people _drained _of their very life energy?- but she was interested to know what conclusion _would_ be reached and how soon. The sooner the determination of cause of death, the sooner these womens' remains could be interred.

The professor tapped a finger to the tip of his nose. "Precisely. Thus far, there's been no weapon or tool marks on the bones, no sort of cranial trauma. We're hoping one of the marginally less decomposed specimens- of which, you're already well aware, there aren't many- will be able to shed more light on the matter."

"What theories does Doc Hern have?"

He shrugged once more. "Two possibilities. The first is strangulation."

The professor allowed a moment for her mind to absorb that before her eyes went wide and she gasped at the implication- strangled . . . during their _offerings? _"So the theory is um . . . erotic asphyxiation . . . gone horribly overboard . . . every time?"

"For all we know, he might have done it _with_ the intent to kill from the very beginning rather than just as a," he gave another shrug, managing to go on without sounding too uncomfortable, "sexual act by itself. The rush of the kill combined with the thrill of sexual gratification. It's a behavior seen with serial killers sometimes, regardless of their time period."

She nodded, trying to remain in a clinical mind-set and ignoring that she already knew that The Thief was _so_ much more than just some run of the mill human psychopath. He was certainly a twisted being, but they seemed determined to vilify him further, still. "And the second theory?"

If Kagome didn't know any better, she could have sworn the professor was relieved by the change of subject. She knew she shouldn't be surprised, now that she understood his feelings toward her, but the acknowledgment of the slight threatened that delicate line she was treading between _Professor_ Taisho and Taisho _Sesshomaru_.

"Poison," he said simply.

She echoed the word almost dumbly, allowing the possibility to roll around in her head. "How could that be, I mean . . . . Could it really match with the perception of their times of death in the text?"

"Well, it would be a little trickier to pin point, but if Doc Hern rules out everything else, it is the only plausible explanation left. We know The Thief had a priest as his right hand man. Mezzo-American priests, typically, were experts in herbalism in a way that we still don't fully understand. It's entirely possible that he had his sacrifices given a particular poison beforehand and the 'act'- which would have sped up the heart beat and quickened the pulse, thereby forcing the blood to circulate faster- would have appeared as though _it_ was the cause of death. This actually would have perpetuated The Thief's myth."

Something about that caught Kagome's attention, but she couldn't quite figure out exactly what that was, so she pushed it aside for the moment. "I guess that makes sense, since even with the strangulation theory, the cause of death would have the potential of leaving marks on the body that could have aroused suspicion from his followers."

Professor Taisho nodded, trying to ignore that he was experiencing another simple moment of appreciating how well their minds worked together. "It could, possibly, also explain why the priest refused to allow his daughter as a sacrifice, because he would have been partially . . . no, predominantly responsible for killing her."

She nodded in response, the mention making her realize that Lyka had been subdued without Kagome needing to put any extra effort into restraining her. Which was good, it had begun to get tiring. This was a blessed reprieve from their seemingly daily battle. A useless battle, at that, since Kagome _always_ won, but that Lyka was a stubborn thing. Perhaps, Kagome reasoned now, Lyka had tired herself out, as well, and was resting.

"If you think about it," he went on, "it maybe the only thing that truly fits. It was The Thief that convinced the girl to kill her father, perhaps then, it was also that The Thief had taken some of the herbs they used on his sacrifices and . . . gave it to her to poison her father."

Kagome managed a nod. Somehow she felt a little . . . _hollow_. She knew Nah Rah Ku was evil, she knew that while he may not have strangled the life from those women with his bare hands, he _had_ killed while taking his offerings . . . but she knew, also, that Lyka wasn't the innocent victim she was being portrayed as. It felt a little wrong to be so eager to pin _everything_ that had transpired on the demon, but, because she had no way of explaining to Professor Taisho how she knew any of this, she kept her misgivings to herself.

* * *

_Her head fell back and she let out a soft little hiccup of sound at the feel of his lips moving in a warm, wet line down her abdomen. Instantly his hand slid upward, fingers covering her mouth. She raised her head to look down at him questioningly._

_Crimson eyes crinkled in a grin as he murmured softly, "Not so loud, my Lyka, or someone will hear."_

* * *

Kagome bolted upright in bed, gasping for air as she blindly darted her gaze around. Her eyes adjusted slowly to the darkness and the awareness of being back in her tent wrapped around her like a security blanket. Slowly, forcefully, she calmed her breathing, trying to make sense of what she'd just been shown.

Obviously it was Lyka and Nah Rah Ku together . . . _again. _But_ again _was the problem. It wasn't a continuation of, or preamble to, what she had witnessed last time. It couldn't be, the location was different. When before they'd been in his sacrificial chamber, this time they'd been in the jungle . . . he'd had her against a tree on the outskirts of her village.

Kagome's brow furrowed in confusion as she tried to pick this apart. That couldn't be . . . according to the text, Lyka had only been with him when he'd died. So either Lyka, stubborn, annoying . . . potentially a little deranged in her own right, Lyka, was fabricating the image for Kagome's benefit. Or the tale was wrong.

Twisting the already bunched up fabric of her sleeping bag in her hands, she began going over the details of The Thief's story again. As she did, she compounded or took away little bits and pieces with what she'd learned thus far through both her own experience and what their research was revealing. Instantly the point that had snagged in her mind during her discussion with Professor Taisho had become clear to her.

Medicine women were just as common place as priests in Mezzo-American tribes and, for the most part served much the same purpose. As the high priest's daughter, this was what Lyka would have been trained and groomed to become. Blue eyes narrowed suspiciously as Kagome chewed furiously on her lower lip.

If logic _and_ cultural practice dictated that Lyka, too, was an expert herbalist . . . how, then, could she have been so careless as to misjudge the amount of poison needed to kill her father?


	15. Familiarity Breeds Contempt

**Chapter Fifteen**

Familiarity Breeds Contempt

Sango dropped the slide of stills she'd been pouring over and turned her head with little jerking motions to look at Kagome over her shoulder. "Are you friggin' kidding me?"

After a day or two of fighting with herself over the matter, Kagome had decided that she simply couldn't sweep aside the discrepancies. It was too confusing to be involved in this mess- this mess that should have nothing to do with her, and yet she currently appeared to be smack-dab in the center of- and begin discovering _now_ that things might be even more warped than they'd already seemed. But she couldn't go into this alone, either. She, still, had no clue what she was actually doing when it came to any sort of spiritual mumbo-jumbo, so the idea of having someone- even if that person was as clueless as herself about these things- watching her back, so to speak, was incredibly appealing.

Shrugging a bit, Kagome gave a thoughtful scowl. "Well . . . no. I think I may actually need to uh . . . 'talk' to her. What I know and what I've learned aren't adding up to the same thing when they _should_ and I need to find out why," she explained, tightly folding her arms around herself to keep from fidgeting in her agitation.

With a long, heavy sigh, Sango turned more fully toward her friend, resting her forearm over the back of her folding chair. "You said it yourself: Lyka is a deceitful bitch. How can you be sure that, even if you get her to 'talk' to you, she'll tell you what really happened?"

"Okay, you make a very good point," Kagome granted through lightly clenched teeth, "but . . . what if I'm wrong about that? What if Lyka's a victim just . . . soured by time and a horrible death, or something?"

Sango quirked a brow. "And this would change the fact that she's _now_ a deceitful bitch in what way, exactly?"

"I guess it wouldn't, but I don't see what else to do."

"Why not just wait, then?" Sango asked reasonably.

Kagome wanted to be mad that this was even a thought in her friend's mind, but . . . she couldn't. Sango didn't understand what having another person in your head was like. She wasn't sure anyone that wasn't considered to be insane would know how it felt. This thought stuck in a corner of her mind- was it possible that something like this was really at fault for some people the world thought of as crazy?

_Botched spirit possessions? _Kagome shivered a little and shoved the notion aside; with everything else she'd been forced to accept in both her life and the world at large recently, she wasn't certain she should be dwelling on anything more about the spiritual world until she had a way to get actual answers- if the situation didn't drive her insane, her own ponderings just might.

"Wait until when, exactly?"

Sango offered another shrug. "Until we get back home. Professor Taisho did say he was going to hook you up with a spiritualist. Maybe the old guy can help you."

Sitting down heavily in another chair, Kagome rubbed her hands over her face. "I don't know that I want to wait . . . I don't think I can_take_ waiting, Sans. Not on this."

"It might be safer."

Kagome couldn't help the mirthless, scoffing chuckle that escaped her at that. "Oh, I don't doubt that. I just . . . _can't_."

Sango seemed to take a moment to mull this over, drumming two fingers against her chin. "You know what I think you should do?"

"Uh . . ." blue eyes darted about before replying, "what was it again? Oh, yeah, 'wait'."

"Well, clearly you're not going to, so, let's work with the fact that you're going to completely ignore your best friend's wishes. We do . . . whatever it is so you can have a chat with Lyka . . . and then ask Nah Rah Ku for his version of events."

Kagome's brow shot up. "There's not a whole lot of talking that gets done when he's around."

"Okay, fine, but it's not like he just jumps you and goes away again, he's _always_ spoken to you, both before and after, right?"

"Huh," Kagome hadn't given that much thought before, but The Thief did seem to spend as much of his visits conversing with her as he did working to take his offerings from her. That realization felt . . . _odd_, somehow. "I guess you're right."

Sango nodded, "I usually am; _you _just haven't fully accepted it, yet. The next time he . . ." Sango cleared her throat in mock-awkwardness as she made air quotes, "_visits,_ use that time to ask _him_ what happened and then we compare the stories and figure out which one seems more plausible. There's really only a few possibilities. One, Lyka is flat out lying- that's the one I'm leaning towards. Two, the scribe that recorded the story was misinformed and maybe they were messing around in secret. Three . . ." she gave yet another shrug, "the scribe was misinformed and it was someone else that tried to kill Lyka's father."

Kagome rolled her eyes. She somehow hoped it was possibility number one, as well. That seemed like the easiest avenue to walk down. She almost voiced the idea that they could very well _both_ lie to her, but then she'd already assessed the fact, more than once, that the demon- for all of his obvious and innumerable flaws- wasn't a liar. She'd rather be proven wrong than stick her foot in her mouth.

"So," Sango leaned closer, dropping her already lowered voice to a whisper as one of the other interns came in and proceeded to retrieve something from one of the giant plastic storage crates, "how do we do this?"

For a person as intelligent as Kagome, the look the girl gave then was remarkably blank. "I'm open to suggestions."

* * *

"I can_not_ believe I'm doing this again," Kagome muttered, attempting to let the scowl she'd been giving Sango fade as she closed her eyes and squared her shoulders.

Frowning lightly, Sango cast a glance around the greenery-obscured rock face. From their estimation, their current placement atop the low, flora-infested mountain was directly over Lyka's resting place. This had actually been mostly Kagome's idea, so Sango didn't quite understand why _she_ was catching flack for the plan- all Sango had contributed to it, really, was the common sense to lightly spritz their clothes and shoes with some of the chemical repellent to keep animals a safe distance from them, since they were in an area not considered part of the working site.

In Kagome's words, the small vestige of Lyka might contain enough consciousness to retain the spirit's memories, but she thought she might need a stronger connection to accomplish some sort of discussion with her. While Sango was a little concerned that a stronger connection could open Kagome to the risk of allowing Lyka to possess her, she had faith in the girl's spiritual instincts and internal strength.

"Yeah, well, let's not dawdle, dinner break's over in about half an hour. If we don't haul ass back to camp by then, people will notice we're missing." Mostly, Sango just wanted to hit the shower and scrub any of excess repellent off of her skin and change into fresh clothes.

Kagome snickered somewhat humorlessly. "Uh-huh, 'cause this is a thing I can put a rush on."

"Shhhh," Sango admonished- she was there to do whatever necessary to snap Kagome out of her meditation if it seemed something was wrong. "Just concentrate, if you seem like you're taking too long I'll wake you up."

Giving a small nod, Kagome forced herself to relax and began slowing her breathing a bit. Immediately she started to visualize the inside of her own head as a series of rooms. In the furthest, Lyka was confined, shackled to a chair. She put as much detail into her representation of Lyka as she was able- recalling from her dreams those wide, deceptively innocent-looking black eyes, that wealth of gleaming black locks, the naturally bronze skin.

Almost before she realized it, Kagome found herself standing in the room, facing a young, vaguely surprised Mezzo American woman. For a long moment the two simply stared at each other before a cruel smirk began to curve the spirit's full lips.

"So," she began in a strangely syrupy tone, "you come to speak to your captive, do you?"

Kagome was almost startled that Lyka was speaking a language she could understand, but then she realized it must be like Nah Rah Ku and the professor- this was probably why she could understand the discussion taking place in her dreams, too. Lyka had most likely deciphered it from her time lurking about in the back of Kagome's head. Then again, she hadn't been certain of exactly how this _discussion_ was supposed to happen, but clearly her expectation of transferring mental pictures that would tell the story had been wrong. She had evidently read way too many of her brother's manga.

"No one told you to try and take over my body," Kagome pointed out.

Dark eyes rolled. "If you had not moved so quickly, I would have been successful."

_Keep telling yourself that, _Kagome thought- barely restraining those words from being voiced by reminding herself that being snarky and getting into a proverbial pissing-contest would only make this take longer . . . even if she would win. "I want to know what really happened before you died."

Instantly Lyka's falsely sweet expression hardened into a scowl. "Why should you want to ask me this? Is the tale not, how do you say . . . 'plastered' all over our temple?"

"Well, yes, but . . . it's not the same as what you've shown me." Even as she said it, the moment caught Kagome's attention. "Wait . . . why don't you know what I know about what the temple's text reads?"

The medicine woman pointedly lifted her wrists, then, tugging against her bindings. "It is because of how you restrain me. I do not have access to such detailed thoughts in this state."

This announcement was very troubling to Kagome- how could Lyka be lying about her story if she didn't even know what was told in the text? She'd never asked The Thief for his version of things, either- she knew somehow, though, that he simply assumed that she just _knew _that things hadn't really happened exactly as the tale had related, so he didn't need to explain himself any further.

"The text says that you and Nah Rah Ku were only um . . . 'together' the night you both died."

After a few seconds of picking apart her host's delicate phrasing, Lyka grinned wickedly. "That is true, mostly. We did not . . . _truly_lay together until that day."

"So you've been lying to me?"

"No," Lyka said quickly, seeming genuinely thrilled for that moment. "My father was being difficult indeed about my wants, but he never could stop me from getting that which I desired. I offered myself to Nah Rah Ku a little at a time. Eventually I was caught and my father, again, sought to control my actions." She pouted, her huge black eyes glittering. "And Nah Rah Ku _refused _to take me as a sacrifice if my father was against it. He forced my hand."

Kagome went wide-eyed at this, the implication rattling through her head again and again- she'd done that all . . . on her _ow_n? "So you . . . _did_ . . . poison your father?"

"Yes."

She was so simple, so blatant about attempted patricide that it made Kagome feel that inching, creeping cold in the pit of her stomach. She forced herself not to wrap her arms around her body, even as the chill emanating from her core began to raise her skin in goose bumps. Kagome reminded herself sternly that she needed to stay focused, and that- she hoped, anyway- Lyka was only trying to frighten her. She wasn't about to let the spirit realize that it was working.

Kagome's voice disobeyed her, eeking out in a hollow whisper against her will. "Why didn't you give him enough to kill him?"

Those dark eyes narrowed a bit, the delicate skin beneath them tightening in thought, but she didn't offer a response. She wasn't surprised. The frightened tremor inside Kagome grew deeper. Lyka _hadn't_ given him the wrong dosage by accident? As she held the spirit's gaze she couldn't help trying to dissect the motives, the possibilities, on her own. Had she wanted him to suffer? Had she thought a lower dosage would kill him more slowly?

One of Lyka's brows twitched and then she was speaking rapidly in a low, rumbling growl of words, venom dripping from each syllable, "You have not earned such confidences from me. _You_ are merely another who has-"

"KAGOME!"

Kagome's eyes snapped open, her gaze darting around frantically as Sango shook her for what was, apparently, the fourth or fifth time. "Sango, Sango- San-GO!" she yelped, clamping her hands over the other girl's fingers curled in a near-lethal grip around her upper arms.

A stammering breath rushed from between Sango's lips as she pulled Kagome into a hug. "Oh my gods!" Before Kagome could react, Sango was pushing her away to hold her at arms' length again, all but shouting at her, "Don't you _ever_ do that again, you scared the shit out of me!"

Kagome gave a dazed nod as she asked slowly, "Do what?"

Scowling darkly, Sango relinquished her hold and tapped a finger against the middle of Kagome's forehead. "Whatever was going on in there that had you looking like you were going into a seizure!"

This made sense to Kagome somewhat- in her drive to not tremble in front of Lyka, she must have pushed the sensation outward, causing her physical body to shake . . . rather violently, if Sango wasn't exaggerating, and she was already well aware that Sango was not prone to exaggeration. "_That_," she said after mulling it over for a second, "was because of Lyka."

Sango's dark eyes lit with anger immediately. "Did that bitch do something to you?"

"No, no, not really. She's just . . . scary."

"Scary _how_?"

Kagome shrugged, giving a sharp shake of her head. "Like . . . looking into the eyes of a . . . baby-faced serial killer scary."

"Yikes," Sango said in a small voice before checking her watch and placing her hands on Kagome's shoulders once more to begin steering the girl back in the direction of the campsite. "This was definitely our worst plan, yet. Did you find out anything?"

As they carefully picked their way down the mountainside and traversed the thinly carved path Kagome recounted what had happened. She almost wanted to believe she'd imagined it all, but she didn't think she had a side dark enough to conjure up something like Lyka. What Kagome knew for certain was that Sango was right . . . about usually being right, oddly. She should have stowed away her agitation and confusion and _waited_ until she had someone around her that knew about these things.

"_What_ a whack-job," Sango uttered in a hushed breath of disbelief, wide-eyed and shaking her head as they reached camp and she'd had time to absorb- and mentally fiddle with- what Kagome had told her. "What do you think she was in the middle of saying to you?"

Kagome frowned deeply, closing her eyes as she took a moment to reinforce the mental barriers with which she kept Lyka subdued and silent. "I have no idea, and honestly," she opened her eyes and sighed quietly, "I don't think I want to know."

As they returned to their tent to retrieve their bath items Kagome told herself adamantly that the best thing she could do would be to let the matter rest until they were in Japan, and perhaps Professor Taisho's friend could help her safely get rid of Lyka.

* * *

Once again, Kagome found her mouth betraying her mind as Nah Rah Ku grinned down at her, pinning her body with his own against the back wall of one of the utility stations. Days had passed since her frightening encounter with Lyka and no matter how she tried to push aside the thoughts tumbling around in the back of her head about the whole thing, she simply couldn't. She needed to know what she'd gotten herself into.

Her heart skipped, that sweet, delicate warmth beginning to pulse between her thighs as he dragged his teeth and tongue down the side of her throat. "Wait," she heard herself saying as he nudged her legs apart with his knee. "I- I need to ask you something."

Pulling back just enough to meet her gaze, he slid a hand downward from the wall to knead her breast playfully as he wedged his thigh firmly between hers. "Is it not something that can wait?"

Kagome choked back a gasp, unable to stop herself from moving against his motions instantly as he began rubbing his leg rhythmically against that delicate, sensitive spot between her thighs. "N-n . . . no, no. It . . ._ really _can't wait." Despite her words, part of her was already screaming that it certainly _could_ wait.

Much to her highly mixed feelings of frustration and relief, The Thief paused in his ministrations, but didn't move away from her. Icy gold eyes met hers as he breathed out, "What is it?"

She would have fidgeted if she wasn't pinned, she realized dully. "What really happened with Lyka?" she blurted out- rushing through it seemed to be the only way to get the words to leave her lips.

She let out a surprised little hiccup of sound at the fine, twisting veins of red that threaded through the gold of his irises, through the whites of his eyes, at the mention of that name. "Never speak of her to me again!" He hissed in a seething whisper.

Kagome forced a gulp down her throat. If she'd ever done anything that would make him angry enough to simply kill her, this was likely it. "I'm . . . I'm sorry, but I . . . I need to know what happened, it's driving me crazy!"

"You need to know?" He echoed. "That . . . bewitching little serpent orchestrated my death!"

Kagome's breath left her lungs in a sharp, stuttering rush of air. "I . . . I don't understand. Why would she want to kill _you_? Wasn't she in love with you?"

Nah Rah Ku pulled away from her so fast it was a wonder she didn't fall to the ground. "How naive you are," he muttered with a dark, utterly mirthless chuckle. "_Love _is not a word that can be applied to her. She wanted to be the last sacrifice I would ever take and for no reason so noble as one such as you would like to think. She did not wish to _stop_ me . . . she wished to die _with_ me."

A fierce shiver tumbled through her as the realization struck. It was her own father . . . she had probably predicted his reaction . . . had probably made him _think_ The Thief had told her to do it. But then that had to mean . . . she _knew_ what would become of her father at the hands of Nah Rah Ku's faithful. The image of those awful remains chained in that secret chamber beneath the temple flashed through Kagome's mind. _She knew . . . . _Each revelation was dizzying to her in its own right and she found herself blinking back tears as she pressed a hand to her forehead.

"How . . . how do you know all of this?" she managed in a trembling whisper.

"I know this because in our last moments as we lay dying . . . she _told_ me," he spoke slowly, as though puzzling over something else, entirely, in another corner of his mind. Leaning down suddenly to peer deeply into her eyes, he murmured in a lethal tone, "According to this Sesshomaru's recollections, _that _name is not found amongst your research. How do you come to know it?"

"I . . . I . . ." Kagome stammered, lowering her eyes from his.

Immediately he grasped her chin with his fingers, forcing her head up so that she could not escape his gaze. After a long moment of staring down into her eyes, Kagome felt Lyka being pulled against her restraints. "Why did you not tell me she entrenched herself within you?"

He was so very . . . _very_ angry. Kagome didn't know if his skin was _really_ becoming hotter because of his raging temper or if she was imagining it. "I was . . ." she forced a hard gulp down her throat and tried again, a trickle of frightened tears escaping her eyes, "I didn't know the truth. I . . . I thought you'd help her take me over."

The threading of crimson in his eyes bled out, blotting out the gold and white entirely. Suddenly his fingers curved upward from her chin to clamp over her mouth as he placed two fingers of his other hand to the center of her forehead. "Bite down if need be, but do not scream- this will hurt."

Before Kagome could react, Lyka was ripped entirely from the behind the barriers. The forced shredding of her mental shielding caused a searing pain in Kagome's head and she bit down into Nah Rah Ku's shielding fingers, her arms raising, hands blindly grasping at the air until she was gripping his forearm with tightly clenched fingers. The pain followed Lyka's path in a bright, blistering trail as he continued to pull on the spirit's consciousness.

Kagome forced her eyes open, watching in an agony-hazed awe as The Thief tugged an ephemeral thread of rippling black and purple from the center of her forehead. In a detached corner of her mind, she recognized what he was doing. He was extracting Lyka's essence _through_ her third eye. The spirit was scraping and scrambling, trying to stay inside of her host, causing more flashes of pain to rock through Kagome's skull and all she could do was sink her teeth in harder- unable to stop even at the copper-salt taste of blood on her tongue.

And then . . . the pain was gone. Nah Rah Ku had pulled the last of the thread from her and as Kagome watched, he released his hold on her face and pulled the thread taut between both hands. Giving it a single, strong yank the thread burst into glittering dust and fluttered to the ground. That was it, she acknowledged in a daze. Lyka was no more.

"I'm . . . I'm sorry," she said numbly, raising trembling fingers to her blood stained bottom lip as she nodded toward his wounded hand.

"Hmph," he breathed the sound. "I think I shall not fabricate a reason for this injury. Watching this Sesshomaru's confusion over the matter shall be your punishment for keeping this from me."

"I didn't . . ." she cleared her throat and started again, admitting, "I didn't expect you to help me."

The deep red was fading from his eyes, but there was no misinterpreting his extreme displeasure as he muttered evenly, "I would not have a creature such as she poisoning _you_, as well."

Something in that statement struck Kagome in the middle of her chest, but she couldn't understand why. She opened her mouth to ask, but already he was turning on his heel to stalk away from her. "I will return another evening for your offering. This incident has soured my appetite."

After a long moment, Kagome edged her way to the end of the utility station and peeked around it, watching him stride back toward Professor Taisho's tent in the darkness. Letting out a heavy, trembling sigh, she slid down the wall and wrapped her arms around her legs. Lyka had been the monster in the tale, after all. The Thief . . . the _demon _had just saved her.

Kagome let her head drop down against her knees as she turned over in her mind again and again the fact that she had _no_ idea how to feel about that.


	16. Sinfully Sweet Imagining

**Chapter Sixteen**

Sinfully Sweet Imagining

Sango quirked a sleepy brow, glancing over at Kagome for the umpteenth time. The girl was squirming in her sleep . . . which meant it was either a very bad dream . . . or a very good one, and with her friend's predicament, she wasn't entirely certain she wanted to know which it was.

* * *

"Professor, take a look at this," Kagome said, pouring over the translations one last time.

They were in The Thief's sacrificial chamber, saying their final farewells to the site and making certain they had all of their materials in order for the purpose of turning the excavation over to the next research team. Nah Rah Ku hadn't made anymore appearances since that dreadful night he'd banished Lyka. She wasn't entirely certain how she felt about that, either. Of course she was relieved, but then she was also a little regretful about it- she still wanted him gone, but she couldn't honestly say she hadn't come to enjoy particular aspects of his visits- and she was definitely nervous. After staving off his hunger for so long, she couldn't help being worried that when he did come back he'd be ravenous. If that was so, then she wasn't at all confident that he wouldn't be so blinded by his own hunger that he might try to take more than she'd been willing to offer him.

"Something wrong?" Professor Taisho asked, coming across the chamber to stand behind her, peering down over her shoulder.

"Well, I . . ." she flicked a glance a little shyly up at him- he was standing . . . oddly close- and cleared her throat trying to push the sudden upwelling of giddy butterflies in her stomach aside. "I'm wondering why there are no details about who recorded the inscriptions. Am I missing something? There's no kind of . . . personal slant to the telling to give an indication. I mean, if all the people involved in the story were killed, then . . . who knew enough of the specifics to place blame where it belonged?"

"Unfortunately, this is what we usually find with most such recordings." He reached an arm around her, lightly placing a hand over hers where her fingers held the page. "As the priest and the sacrifices are the only ones from the story that have been found, it stands to reason that perhaps the rest of the tale is just that, a tale. Perhaps the priest himself spun it, thus it would have been _he_who was seducing and murdering those women to support his own machinations, but was not able to predict how the people would take it when he was forced to declare that he'd killed their 'deity' himself to explain away the lack of his existence."

She wished she didn't know enough of the truth behind this place to doubt his assessment. "I suppose you're right. I just . . . find it difficult to believe people could do that to a person over something they'd never actually seen." Without realizing what she was doing, the tip of one of her fingers was trailing gingerly over his still-healing bite mark.

He was so close behind her that she could feel him shrugging as he responded, "That is what makes faith such a dangerous thing. It's not belief in something that is bad, but it is the things people will lower themselves to doing all in name of what they believe in."

She'd swept her hair forward over one shoulder before he'd come to stand behind her and now was able to feel the warmth of his breath against the side of her throat when he spoke. The hard, but fragile creases of his broken skin beneath the pad of her fingertip drew her attention just enough to keep her focused on the moment. "So, you, um . . . still don't know how you did this?"

He chuckled a little, pulling his hand from hers to hold it up in front of them, circling his other arm around her as well to trail the fingers of his other hand over the injury. "No, not a clue. Hojo said it looks like a bite mark, but I think I'd remember something like that. He seems to think maybe I did it to myself in my sleep during a bad dream."

Kagome was fighting with herself not to lean back against him, but it was a fight she was slowly losing. There was a comfort in this lapse of his usually guarded nature. "Do you often have bad dreams?"

There was a long pause and she couldn't help turning in his arms to face him. ". . . Sometimes," he finally said, the sadness in those amber eyes echoing that mournful look she'd seen from him only once before.

Against her better judgment, she raised a hand slowly, deliberately giving him time to pull away if he wished, and delicately cupped a hand against his cheek. It was a wonder to her to watch his eyes drift closed, to see the lids clench tightly, to hear the deep, rumbling breath that escaped him then. Whatever was hurting him so deeply . . . he _wanted_ to tell her, he wanted to know he could confide it in her, she knew this now.

And whatever else they imagined they were to one another, Kagome wanted to be the one he thought could help ease his suffering, if even in the smallest measure.

"Hey," they heard Miroku's voice echoing through the corridor and instantly jumped apart. It was a moment before he actually entered the chamber, giving them a second to both realize what might have just happened if not for the interruption.

She met the professor's gaze and by now she thought she understood him well enough to grasp the mingling emotions playing out behind his usually passive and detached expression. He was upset with himself for letting his guard down, for getting so close to her. Then there was true bewilderment. He was finally realizing that what she felt toward him was not a simple school girl crush. It was _not_ some passing infatuation and she felt a little jab in her chest that she could tell he didn't know how to deal the changing dynamic of their once so-platonic relationship.

Miroku stepped into the room at last, darting his gaze from Kagome to Professor Taisho and back again before dropping his eyes to the chamber floor. "The new team's here, we need to prep them and get on the road if we want to hit the airport in time to make all the security checks before boarding."

Nodding, Kagome turned back to the altar and scooped up the translations as the professor followed Miroku out into the corridor. She was glad, now, that she'd been put in a position to reveal that partial-truth to Miroku when she had- if not, he'd have simply ambled into the chamber and stumbled upon a very different scene. In his mind, he wasn't just keeping his word to Kagome, he was also allowing his boss to save face by pretending not to know, and that was fine with her.

She was a little heart-wrenched, though, pausing to trail her fingers along the entryway of the chamber before finally exiting. They were going home . . . and these close moments with Taisho Sesshomaru wouldn't happen anymore.

* * *

Kagome had been mulling over that close-call the entire time since; as they turned over the site, as they packed away their luggage, as they drove their rental truck back to that desolate hovel of a garage and fetched their long-prearranged return-ride to the airport. She wondered what might have been, what might have happened, had Miroku not interrupted then. Or, what might have come of that close embrace had the professor not been given reason to become saddened. It was no wonder, with so much pondering over the matter, why her dream during the plane trip home was turning out this way.

* * *

Without realizing what she was doing, the tip of one of her fingers was trailing gingerly over his nearly-healed bite mark.

He was so close behind her that she could feel him shrugging as he responded, "That is what makes faith such a dangerous thing. It's not belief in something that is bad, but it is the things people will lower themselves to doing all in name of what they believe in."

She'd swept her hair forward over one shoulder before he'd come to stand behind her and now was able to feel the warmth of his breath against the side of her throat when he spoke. The hard, but fragile creases of his broken skin beneath the pad of her fingertip drew her attention just enough to keep her focused on the moment. "So, you, um . . . still don't know how you did this?"

He chuckled a little, pulling his hand from hers to hold it up in front of them, circling his other arm around her as well to trail the fingers of his other hand over the injury. "No, not a clue. Hojo said it looks like a bite mark, but I think I'd remember something like that. He seems to think maybe I did it to myself in my sleep during a bad dream."

Kagome was fighting with herself not to lean back against him, but it was a fight she was slowly losing. There was a comfort in this lapse of his usually guarded nature. She allowed it finally, drifting back slowly, giving him time to pull away from her if he wanted to, until she was nestled entirely against him.

"Higurashi . . ." he said in a low voice and she could feel the shuddering of his breath.

"Please," she whispered, closing her eyes, "just . . . for a minute?"

After a long moment he nodded, his arms falling to circle her waist, holding her against him. "This isn't a wise thing to do."

A small giggle escaped her at that. "I know."

He gave a sigh that was a mix of contentment and resignation. Whatever she'd been expecting next, it was not to feel him lower his head and drag his lips down the side of her throat. She trembled against him, tipping her head away to offer more of her skin to his mouth. He responded instantly, parting his lips to trail the tip of his tongue over the delicate spot just below her ear.

"So this is . . . probably not a wise thing to do, either," she mumbled, reaching back to link her hands behind his neck.

"Definitely not," he replied quietly, tugging her shirt from the waist band of her jeans to trail his fingertips over the bare skin of her stomach.

"This is a pretty sight," Kagome heard, feeling her heart slam against her ribcage for a moment- that was Nah Rah Ku's voice, but not the voice she heard in the moments the professor was possessed, it was his voice as she'd heard it in her dreams from Lyka.

"Go away," Professor Taisho grumbled, seeming reluctant to give up his current activity.

Kagome was trying, suddenly, almost irrationally, to turn to face the demon, but the professor wouldn't relinquish his hold, which resulted in an awkward maneuver of her dropping her arms to grasp his and moving the stubborn man with her until they were both facing Nah Rah Ku. She wanted to slap herself instantly for noting that The Thief was, in fact, devastatingly handsome. She would have laughed at the thought going through her head that she was trapped between a rock and a hard place if it wasn't for the professor's . . . rather _telling_ closeness behind her.

"I think not," Nah Rah Ku said with a small grin as he stepped further into the chamber. "You are playing with what is mine."

Kagome opened her mouth to yell at him, but the professor had already lifted his head a bit, informing the demon in a markedly disinterested tone, "I'm not 'playing' and she's not yours. She only allows you to touch her because you use _my_ face when you do it."

The demon laughed- a deep, genuine sound of mirth- and stepped directly up to the pair. "Is this really so? From the look in her eyes, I would wager," he scooped up Kagome's hand delicately in his and pulled it up, dragging her fingertips along his face, "she seems to appreciate my _own_ visage equally."

She was too dazed by the scenario to pull her hand away, turning her head in skittering motions to look between Professor Taisho and Nah Rah Ku a few times. "I'm not anyone's!" She hissed in an angry whisper.

"Believe what you like, little priestess," Nah Rah Ku murmured.

Kagome was aware in that moment of the release of that annoyingly wonderful power The Thief possessed and she felt the instant response of her body to his presence, felt that delicious, pulsing warmth starting between her legs. She couldn't help slumping back against the professor's body, cradling hers already as it was. There was a satisfied grumble of sound from behind her and Professor Taisho turned her in his arms, raising his hands to cup her face, lifting it to bring his lips crashing down on hers.

She gasped into him, unable to stop herself from darting her tongue into his mouth, caressing his. Before she knew it, she was clawing at the buttons of his shirt, raking at the material to get it out of her way. She barely noticed the press of another body behind hers until she felt Nah Rah Ku's hardened length against her bottom through their suddenly _very_ irritating clothing.

Wrenching her mouth from Professor Taisho's, she eeked out in a breathless whisper, "Oh, you have_ got_ to be kidding me."

"Hmph," Nah Rah Ku muttered, using a hand to tip her head to one side, "and here I thought such things were _every_ woman's fantasy."

She couldn't help the moan that escaped her as he bit down gently on the side of her throat or the way it caused her body to tremble against both of theirs. _Fantasy . . . ?_ her mind echoed the word dully as the professor finally aided her attempts to remove his shirt, peeling it back and dropping it behind him on the altar.

It struck Kagome then in an odd, distant way that she was _dreaming_. The Thief had his own body . . . that should have been proof enough- as should the idea of him being willing to share her- but at first it had simply made sense in that strange way that ridiculous things _always_ made sense in dreams.

She spared a moment to look up at the professor to find him already staring down into her eyes, his lids drooping, his golden-olive cheeks just a little flushed. This _was_ a dream . . . and she had Professor . . . no, no . . . she had Taisho _Sesshomaru_ in front of her and a _dream-fabricated_ version of Nah Rah Ku behind her . . . a version that couldn't harm her.

It was a shameful notion, but she couldn't hold back the sheepish, embarrassed grin curving her lips at the idea of indulging this fantasy.

Leaning back against Nah Rah Ku, she held Sesshomaru's gaze as she tugged up her shirt, giving the demon a moment to pull his face away from her neck, and whipped it up over her head, letting it drop to the floor. "Mmm, that is the spirit," she heard in a gravelly whisper behind her as Nah Rah Ku circled her with his arms, pushing her bra up and out of the way to cup her breasts in his hands.

Sesshomaru's eyes narrowed in a hint of anger as he watched this before leaning forward to capture her mouth in another deep, hungry kiss as he reached an arm down, grasping one of her legs and pulling it up to rest over his hip. A little whimpering moan sounded in the back of her throat at the feel of him beginning to grind his already _so_ wonderfully hard length against her.

Nah Rah Ku chuckled quietly, murmuring in her ear, "Did I not tell you your professor was quite the naughty-minded one?"

She couldn't focus on the words with Sesshomaru's tongue thrusting into her mouth, with the demon's claws tickling over her nipples in delicate, teasing circles. The sweet, pulsing ache building between her legs forced her hips into motion, rocking her against Sesshomaru.

"Oh, no," Nah Rah Ku breathed the sound against her ear as he slid a hand from her breast, dragging it down along her body to grasp roughly between her legs, just above where her rocking form was pressed so firmly to Sesshomaru's.

Biting gently into the side of her throat he worked his fingers hard against her, compensating for the thick fabric of her jeans, forcing the girl to tremble violently between them once more. He dropped his other hand from her breast as well, but only for a moment, only long enough to clasp one of her hands and bring her unresisting fingers to rest over his hardened length behind her.

Kagome couldn't help herself from moving her fingers, stroking them over him- somewhat clumsily, she was sure- as she slid her other hand behind Sesshomaru's neck to steady herself. By the time he broke the kiss she felt certain her lips must be bruised.

Maneuvering his head to capture her gaze with his own, Sesshomaru slid his hands over her hips, pulling her harder against him. The tip of his tongue flicked over her lips as he whispered, "_This . . . _this is a piece of you he hasn't touched."

Though confused she nodded, blinking almost drowisly as she tried to keep her eyes locked on his.

"Then," he steadied her hips only to begin driving himself more sharply against her, giving a faint, self-satisfied smirk at the moan it elicited from her, "this is the part of you I want."

She offered another dim nod, feeling a bit hazy as he dropped her leg and stepped back from her a little, bumping back against the altar. That tiny, nagging voice in the back of her mind was reminding her that of course she already knew what he looked like naked after Nah Rah Ku being so liberal with his form in the shower that day as she watched Sesshomaru slowly undo his pants and push them- and whatever might have been under them- over his hips and down his legs. In that convenient way of dreams, he wasn't wearing shoes so nothing hindered him from kicking his pants off after they'd fallen to pool around his ankles so that he was standing before her completely unfettered.

Instantly the demon's hands ceased working her flesh, barely giving her the moment she needed to salivate over what she was staring at, only to begin removing the remains of her ever-so-bothersome clothing as well. She briefly glanced over her shoulder at Nah Rak Ku, the only one of them now still dressed- albeit hardly so in that he was clad in the traditional, brightly bead-adorned hide loincloth she'd seen him wearing in her Lyka-given dreams.

"You think he is the only one who gets to enjoy this?" The Thief murmured smoothly, stepping back from her as well, but only to lower himself slowly to the chamber floor.

She held back a nervous giggle when Nah Rah Ku took her hand and led her close to him as he laid on his back Smiling a tad greedily at her, he guided her to kneel, positioning her over his mouth. His arms wound up around her thighs, parting delicate feminine folds and a pleasant shudder rocked through her as he sealed his lips around the sensitive little bead to begin suckling and flicking his tongue over it.

A loud, echoing moan tore out of her before she managed to force open eyes that had seemed to squeeze tightly closed of their own accord to look up at Sesshomaru standing before her. He took the single, needed, step closer to her and she reached out with lightly trembling hands to touch him. She was equal parts nervous and curious as she let her fingers wander his length. It was a wonder to her that she could function at all with the demon's mouth working at her so expertly.

Blue eyes turned a little frightened suddenly as she gazed up into those amber orbs. "I . . . I don't know . . . I've never . . ." she paused, giving another moan as she began rocking her hips against the ministrations of Nah Rah Ku's tongue.

Sesshomaru leaned down a little, pressing a finger to her lips and using his other hand to guide her wandering fingers to wrap around the base of him. "Shhhh, don't be afraid. We have dreams to help us work out things that we don't fully understand, don't we?"

She nodded against his finger- dimly wondering how much of a closet-perv she was becoming to have a dream like this- and he slid his hands from her. Sighing a little to release some of her nervous tension, she lifted him to her lips to gently kiss the tip of him. She was constantly, acutely aware of the motions of the demon's mouth against her, forcing sweet little shocks of pleasure to run through her even as she parted her lips to take the tip of Sesshomaru's length into her mouth.

Sesshomaru uttered a deep, pained groan as she moved further, taking as much of him into her mouth as she could. Instantly she understood why he'd wrapped her hand around him and she moved her it in unison with her lips to work her way back down his length. He made another deep, rumbling sound, raising his hands to gently cup the back of her head. The sound and the action created a little thrill within her that only combined with the delcious ripples Nah Rah Ku's mouth was causing and she let her eyes drift closed. She took a cue from the demon, mimicking the lapping motions of his tongue with her own against the delicate underside of Sesshomaru's length as she worked her mouth and hand along him in as much of a rhythm as she could manage.

Distantly she heard a hungry growl beneath her, feeling Nah Rah Ku's claws digging into her skin as he picked up his pace, catching that precious little bead between his teeth and suckling harder at it. Kagome trembled violently, forced to still her motions, to let Sesshomaru slip from her mouth as she cried out. She tried, clumsily, to compensate with the fingers still grasping his length as the orgasm tore through her. The demon slipped his hands over her hips, rocking her once more against the working of his mouth as the delicious tremors danced through her system.

The moment it began to ebb, the instant she was able to move around the sweet, bright pleasure he was causing, she took Sesshomaru into her mouth again. He let out a shuddering gasp above her, his head falling back as she worked his length with her mouth and the guiding aid of her own hand. The grunting, rumbling noises coming out of him, the feeling of his fingers tightening as they gripped into the hair at the back of her head drove her on even as she began, once more, rocking her hips of her own accord against the demon's tongue that was nursing her through the precious, glimmering aftershocks of her orgasm.

She felt the delicate, velvety flesh against her tongue begin to ripple, felt the hips of the man before her begin to thrust forward into her mouth in helpless, jerking thrusts. Though she wasn't really prepared for it, she braced herself as well as she could, trying not to let her motions falter as he stilled and released into her. She fought not to let herself gag, swallowing it down as she continued taking him into her mouth, continued moving her hand over him until he was completely spent.

Finally he slid his hands forward from her hair to gently cup her face, extracting himself gently from her lips and stumbling back a little to lean against the altar. His breath was coming out in harsh, ragged rushes of sound as he lifted his eyes to meet hers.

A tiny hint of half-smile curved a corner of Sesshomaru's lips as he murmured, "Understand that despite_ him_," his amber gaze flickered somewhat unhappily to the demon beneath her, who- embarrassingly enough- was still lapping at her, "I still think of you as mine."

* * *

"Higurashi!"

Kagome jumped, immediately shrinking back into her airline seat as she opened her eyes to see those same amber orbs peering just a touch sleepily at her. "I didn't mean to startle you, you were just so deeply asleep." He instantly slipped the fingers he'd touched to her knee away as he continued, "We're home."

She nodded as she pushed the flimsy, airplane issued blanket aside and pulled herself to sit up. She turned to see Sango blinking questioningly at her as the professor moved on to begin pulling down some of the carry-on luggage.

"W-what?" Kagome stammered.

Brown eyes darted around briefly before the girl leaned toward her, her voice a mere breath of sound, "You are going to have to tell me what that dream was about."

A blush immediately flooded Kagome's cheeks- _closet-perv!-_ as she stammered, whispering as well, "Oh no . . . tell me I wasn't talking in my sleep!"

"No, no," Sango chuckled quietly, "but you were squirming . . . like . . . a _lot. _I was undecided before, but now I think I have just got to hear this one."

"Sure," Kagome managed to laugh at herself, "if I can work up the courage to explain it out loud."

She took a moment to gather herself- to be certain the dream hadn't left her trembling and shaky-legged in reality- before rising from her seat to help with the luggage. _We're home_, her mind echoed as she shouldered her bag. They were home and she knew why the demon had been in that dream. She staunchly avoided wondering how things in her sleepy imaginings would have gone if not for his presence there.

He'd been there, getting between her and Sesshomaru Taisho as much as he could because, just as she'd been fearing, they'd brought The Thief of Bliss home with them.


	17. Suspicions

**Chapter Seventeen**

Suspicions

Kagome sat back from the computer, blue, brightness-blurred eyes slowly closing as she lifted a hand to massage a knot of tension from the back of her neck. Casting a glance over her shoulder, she watched Sango pouring over their umpteenth hardcover book for a long, quiet moment.

"Any luck yet?" she finally whispered across the table.

They'd been back on their native soil for a few days and- after settling back in, as well as sleeping off their jet lag- the girls had embarked on a mission to the local library to begin their long awaited research. Utilizing the campus library hadn't seemed a wise decision after some conversation on the matter. For one thing, they didn't need logs of such _study materials_ associated with either of their scholastic records. Given the cultural and religious background of the society they'd been immersed in for these last two months, it could be misconstrued that they lacked a very necessary ability to move on after their duty on the excavation was finished. What one professor might brush aside as healthy curiosity, another might frown upon as obsessing.

They also didn't relish the notion of any of their fellow students spying the titles of the volumes they were perusing and begin some ridiculous, annoying whispered rumors about the possibility that they were _witches- _and not the healing, nature-worshiping kind_._That, in and of itself, seemed quite likely to bring its own myriad of adventures along with it.

Propping an elbow on the table, Sango tiredly pinched between her brows as she- surprisingly quietly- slammed the book shut with her free hand. "No . . . this is just _so_ stupid! It's like . . . anything that starts out seeming like it's going to be in-depth turns out to be some unbelievably ridiculous hokum cooked up by a complete crackpot and anything that seems like it might actually be genuine turns out to be so . . . so . . . ."

"Vague?" Kagome offered with a shrug.

Sango nodded, pursing her lips in thought for a few moments. "Well . . . and you know how I hate having to revisit an idea that was good _and_ plausible the first time around, but we _are_ home again, maybe this is a good time to remind Professor Taisho about that old spiritualist guy he wanted you to meet."

Logging out of her internet session, Kagome silently pushed her chair back and stood only to shake her head in an oddly defeated manner as she rounded the table and began scooping up some of the books to replace them on the shelves. "I don't know. I mean . . . yes it is starting to look like that's the _only _avenue we have left, but . . . ."

Sango rolled her eyes a bit as she dropped her chin against her palm while she waited for Kagome to return from the shelves and finish her statement. She was well aware the girl grasped that it was their best course of action- and that it really was becoming increasingly obvious that it really _might_ be their only course of action- but, then, this _was_ Kagome, and Kagome would have to second guess this decision until the last possible minute. Yet, she was also aware that Kagome's constant re-thinking was usually not unfounded, therefore Sango could only wait and see as to whether or not the next words to tumble out of her friend's mouth would be logically sound.

Returning for another armful of books, Kagome paused, leaning forward to rest her elbows on the table, causing her long hair to spill over her shoulders in dark, gleaming waves. "I'm concerned about bringing this . . . _mess_ to the attention of someone that is the professor's friend. What if this guy decides he _has_ to explain the situation to Professor Taisho? That would just . . ." her brow furrowed as she thought over how to express the jumble of words clogging her brain at the very idea, "it would be absolutely . . . I can't even . . . . Okay, I don't really know what would come of _that_, but I have this sneaking suspicion that it wouldn't be pretty!"

Frowning thoughtfully- of course it had been a valid concern and not one that Sango, herself, had considered- Sango gave a small shrug, scratching at the bit of scalp beneath her ponytail. "Alright . . . if you maybe I don't know, illustrate for this guy how dangerous that knowledge might be for the professor? OH, I got it! Nah Rah Ku has access to Professor Taisho's thoughts, doesn't he?"

Blue eyes darted around in a hint of confusion for a second- Kagome had thought that _that_ was sort of a difficult to forget aspect of Professor Taisho's predicament. "Uh, yeah," she said slowly.

"Right, so what if telling the professor leaves open the opportunity for Nah Rah Ku to learn that you're trying to get rid of him? We don't know how the . . . spirit, entity, whatever you want to call it would take that, which _could_ put the professor in danger, explain that."

"You make a good point," Kagome agreed, chewing on her lower lip for a moment.

Sango shrugged again, flashing a relaxed grin. "Those _are_ the only kinds of points I know how to make, apparently."

"Do you ever get tired of patting yourself on the back?"

"Hmm, let me think . . . nope."

"Alright," Kagome scooped up the remaining bundle of tomes, "I'll meet with this guy and talk to him and . . . if it feels like I can trust him, _then_ I will broach the subject with him . . . hypothetically, probably."

Sango sputtered out a cough of disbelief before all but bouncing out of her chair to follow Kagome back to the shelves. "Are you kidding? Like what? 'My friend knows this guy who's possessed by a demon?'"

Dusting her hands off, Kagome turned and tapped a finger against the tip of Sango's nose. "That is technically true, but no. Just . . . I don't know, maybe leave the professor's name out of it and see what this guy says I should do."

"And if he says he wants to meet the possessed person?"

Kagome's shoulders slumped in another gesture of defeat as she considered this idea. "I'll just . . . cross that bridge when I come to it."

Sango snorted at that. "Great plan."

Cracking a little, amused-at-her-own-expense smirk, Kagome responded in a light, airy tone, "Well, we haven't exactly been stellar at coming up with 'great' plans thus far, no reason to start now."

* * *

Their first week of the new semester had seen to a presentation of some of the hands-on work they'd done, as well as an explanation of the hiccups the research team had experienced. Professor Taisho had assigned a paper on the matter, which, of course, had slightly different perimeters and expectations for those that had taken part in the excavation.

Knowing no other subtle way to go about it- as she didn't want to start rumors by being seen speaking privately with the professor if it wasn't strictly necessary- Kagome had stuck a post-it to the center page of her voluminous paperwork before handing it in. It was now that they would get their papers back and- she hoped- a reply.

Miroku was bustling about, handing the assignments back and, nearly like that day which now seemed so very long ago when she'd dreaded checking the list of internship candidates, she was reluctant to skim through the papers before her in search of his possible response. She did, however, feel eyes on her. She already knew it wasn't Professor Taisho, he'd been quite convincing in treating her as though absolutely nothing out of the ordinary had happened between them- as had she, though she hated the forced distance and the platonic, impersonal exchanges that took place in class between them, she knew there was simply no other way for things to be at the moment.

Glancing to the desk beside hers, she saw brown eyes trying to get a glimpse of her returned assignment. Quirking a brow, Kagome lifted the edge of the top page, flashing Sango the bright red A+ and giving a _what's new?_ shrug. Sango frowned, narrowing her eyes into an almost mean expression as she subtly tipped her head toward the papers again. She, too, knew what Kagome was expecting to find in there and she also knew that Kagome wasn't particularly anxious to look.

Finally, Professor Taisho's back was turned to the class and Sango held out her hand. Giving a cursory glance around the classroom, Kagome noted that all the other students were looking over their returned assignments or jotting down whatever the professor was saying- though some were, as she should have expected, wistfully watching Professor Taisho's broad shoulders as he scribbled something on the board. She repressed a frown of her own. What she'd once only found annoying was now threatening to make her blood boil.

Kagome handed the paper over and watched the class cautiously as Sango flipped through the pages. After a moment, her friend nodded, dog-eared a page and pushed it lightly back onto Kagome's desk. Shoulders slumping, Kagome picked up her pen and slid it between the pages to carefully lift them and peeked inside, all the while ignoring Sango's vehement eye-rolling.

There, on the very same post-it just beneath where she'd written _Would like to meet with the person you suggested_ was the quick response, in Professor Taisho's oddly elegant penmanship, of _Will email time and place. _Nodding herself, Kagome let the pages drop back into place and squared her shoulders, sitting up straight in her seat again. This wasn't unusual, considering that the teachers had the emails of their students for things like last minute additions on assignments or the fast delivery of announcements. No, what bothered Kagome was the notion that the message could have been left by Nah Rah Ku and not the professor.

She knew he thought ahead, but that sort of blindside would just be a nightmare.

Shaking her head- she didn't want to think something like that- she returned her attention to the front of the classroom where Professor Taisho was setting up some of the excavation footage for the class to watch. It was his preamble to hitting the play button that caught her a little off-guard.

"This is a copy of some footage sent to me by the current research team. There was- as seemed the theme of working this particular site- an unexpected discovery."

Miroku switched off the lights to allow the class to give their undivided attention to the large flat screen television. An archeologist Kagome recalled meeting in passing when they'd been handing off the site to the next team appeared. Harper was his name . . . ?_No, Henley_- she felt certain that was it. He wasn't in the temple, however . . . or even stationed in front of it. She shifted a little uncomfortably and cast a glance toward Sango without turning her head. Her friend's fingers, which had been drumming with a dull, quiet thud against her desktop had stilled.

As Doctor Henley explained to an imaginary audience that sometimes the most significant discoveries were stumbled across quite by accident the camera was zooming out in slow increments to show more of the craggy, subterranean rock face of the cavern behind him. It should look like all of the other walls, but something about the pock-pattern of the surface tickled at Kagome's memory. The camera panned out further still to show that he stood atop the little plateau where she'd discovered Lyka's ashes.

She felt cold suddenly in the pit of her stomach and the tips of her fingers went numb against the cool, smooth surface of her desk. It was in an odd, detached autopilot that she continued to watch a reenactment of how they'd sectioned off the plateau with large plastic tiles to keep the water at bay until they could extract any artifacts. As he began once more painstakingly working through the muddy surface to start delicately sliding free items that she, herself, must have bypassed in her drive to locate the ashes, he explained that it was only by sheer happenstance that he'd followed a piece of equipment that had been knocked into the water and carried by the current to wash up _there_.

She heard the light sound of a pen scribbling from the desk beside her and briefly dropped her gaze to see a small scrap of paper get slipped into her unresisting hand. Frowning, she turned her hand over, squinting in the dim lighting to read Sango's chicken scratch.

_Accidental my ass! WTF?_

Letting out a miserable, soundless sigh, Kagome crumpled the paper and shoved it into her pocket as she shook her head. Turning her attention back to the screen she instantly felt her heart drop into her stomach. Henley was sliding Lyka's urn out of the mud. Sango was right, there was no way this stumbled-upon discovery had been an accident.

She felt sure she'd explained to Sango that it was only a fragment of Lyka's consciousness that she'd be _infected_ with, but pointing that out again would be too much writing for a quick, tiny note. She'd been hoping that anything left behind would be dormant, but now with Henley's team having uncovered something no one else- save for Sango and herself- had even noticed, she had to accept that the rest of Lyka was still out there and, unfortunately, awake.

The rest of the recorded lecture passed by Kagome in a disjointed daze. When the class ended, Professor Taisho only hit the pause button. Kagome could only assume this was to preview the rest of the footage after the students had left. If she could tell anything from what little of his expression ever, really, said anything, it was that he didn't entirely approve of his colleague's methods. Their next class would likely be a review of points and aspects to which he would have taken a different approach.

"I would like everyone to write a quick essay- it needn't be expansive, but it _must_ fit the qualifications you all know I expect _of_ an essay on where Doctor Henley might have gone about this procedure differently."

Kagome only give a nod, folding her lips inward to keep from chewing her lower lip to pieces. She'd had him pegged on that one. In an odd way, it was comforting to know that though their environment had changed, she'd not lost her ability to read him.

Sango tilted her head toward Kagome as they gathered up their books to start off to their anthropology class. Sadly enough, the lecture room that had initially be used for that class had been reassigned to one across campus and they would have to hurry to not risk getting singled out- and perhaps utterly humiliated- by Professor Tamaki.

"Yeah," she whispered, "you _really_ need to talk to that spiritualist. We don't know enough about how spirits work, what if she can get to you _here_ now that she's going to be out and about?"

"I don't know, I don't know, maybe she doesn't actually remember about me 'cause that was only a fragment of her?" Kagome muttered back in a thin breath of sound.

"Okay, again," Sango was going on as she dragged Kagome toward the classroom door by way of a hand around the strap of the girl's worn yellow backpack, "we don't know enough. Even if she doesn't remember or she can't affect you, I still think it's best to find out how to guard yourself. Understand?"

Kagome nodded, forcing a small gulp down her throat. She'd just have to add _spirit shield _to her list of ridiculous-seeming questions she planned to fire at this guy.

"Ryoushi," they heard suddenly and both girls halted instantly, quickly forcing their mortified expressions aside.

Was it possible he had noticed their fidgety behavior during the screening? Kagome was already thinking up excuses- it made her feel like . . . they hadn't done enough if this had escaped the notice of their team, that seemed plausible enough.

The professor caught them off-guard once more as he simply extracted the disc from the DVD player and placed in its case before holding it out to Sango. "Um . . ." was all she managed, quirking a brow as she took the square of plastic from him and turned it over in her fingers.

"I think Henley's on-site AV tech is slipping, there are some anomalies I'd like you to look over. See if you can scrub them, if not . . ." he shrugged, "I'll just have to explain environmental visual anomalies to the class . . . again." He almost cracked a tiny smirk. "I swear, I don't know why I try."

"Don't you need this, though?" Kagome asked, not bothering to wonder if she had any place in this conversation or not. Though it did raise the brief, flickering question in the back of her mind of whether it was simply because their close work together on the site had led to the natural acceptance of their small unit as a cohesive team.

"No, I have a separate copy. I made this one for this purpose, actually. I still have a bit more of the original to review."

"Sure, I can . . . go over this after lunch, I think."

"Good, let me know tomorrow what your conclusions are. And Higurashi?"

Kagome gave a bit of a start. "Yes, Professor."

"You looked over your paper?" He asked as he moved back to the board to begin erasing it.

She immediately caught his meaning. "Yes."

"Good. Now off you go before Tamaki publicly skewers the two of you."

"As if," Sango grumbled as they exited the room, finally, "it's _his_ fault if we're late, how is that fair?"

The reality didn't prevent either of them from breaking into a run the moment they hit the hallway.

* * *

"I don't see anything yet," Sango said over her shoulder.

They were back-to-back in one of the currently, and thankfully, deserted AV rooms. Kagome was checking her email while Sango was diligently combing her way through the first half of the footage.

"He send it yet?"

Kagome only gave a vague nod, quiet for a moment as she clicked on what must be it. The sender's email wasn't the usual faculty address they normally received class-related notices from, but she took the unmistakably familiar surname worked into the email address as a glaring indication of the sender's identity. She guessed he had already thought over the scenario of one of his colleagues stumbling over an email from him to a student suggesting a place and time to meet up.

She brushed aside a light, giddy tingling at the fact that Professor Taisho trusted her enough to let her know his private email address.

Clearing her throat awkwardly, Kagome at last replied, "Yeah, um . . . there's an address and a time. Sunday afternoon, he's going to meet me in the lobby of the old guy's apartment building and call the him down to meet us and . . . then after introductions he's going to leave so we can . . . talk medium to medium, apparently."

Sango turned in her seat, brown eyes darting from the back of Kagome's head to the screen over her shoulder and back again a few times. "He's not going to stick around?"

Giving a shrug, Kagome turned a bit to meet her friend's gaze. "Makes sense if you think about it, image-wise. If he's introducing me to the old guy and then just walking away, it could be seen as maybe I'm helping out the elderly or something along those lines, but if he sticks around or . . . like were he to take me up to the apartment himself, it wouldn't look right."

"Assuming anyone sees you," Sango flicked a finger in the direction of the screen. "That address is in a crap-old part of that district no one ever really goes to."

Kagome rubbed the back of her neck uncomfortably. "Maybe he doesn't want to chance being alone with me after that _moment_ we had in The Thief's chamber?"

Sango formed a perfect little O with her lips. "Right, okay."

Turning back to her viewing, Sango had lifted the remote control automatically to rewind the frames, having forgotten to pause it. The sight that greeted her made her jump, nearly dropping the remote before she managed, with trembling fingers, to finally hit the pause button.

"Kags . . . um, Kags?"

"Hmm?" was all the response that was offered as Kagome finished going through the remainder of her emails.

"Can you look at this?"

Something in the tone of Sango's voice pulled Kagome's spine up straight. Feeling her hands threatening to go numb once more, she quickly exited out of her session and turned in her seat to peer over Sango's shoulder at the viewing screen.

At first, she wasn't certain she noticed anything at all. "What . . . um, what am I looking at?"

Mutely Sango lifted a finger, pointing to a bit of out-of-place seeming shadow along the craggy wall behind Doctor Henley. She rewound it and Kagome watched, unable to ignore the itchy sensation of her skin crawling as the shadow darted backward toward the plateau with jittery motions, as though the footage was skipping, despite the smooth motions of the man in the foreground.

"Just . . . watch . . . ." Sango said, hitting pause as the specter seemed to sink into the muddy ground.

She hit play and Kagome felt her jaw go slack, her shoulders bunching of their own accord as she watched the shadow slowly pull itself up from the damp, over-turned earth like something half-dead that was struggling to stand upright. For just a moment it appeared to face the camera, the backdrop, in that second, of the lighter plastic tiles giving more depth to the image than the cavern walls had allowed.

Sango hit pause again, breaking the silence with a breathless whisper. "Is _that_ what I think it is?"

Kagome nodded stiffly, raking her gaze over the mottled, barely visible _face_ peering back at them. It wasn't wholly clear, but _those_eyes . . . those wide, upturned eyes she _knew _in a way that made her stomach lurch. Propping an arm over the back of her chair, Kagome rested her forehead against her hand as she let her own eyes drift closed.

After what had felt like forever, she murmured back, "It's Lyka."


	18. Moments of 'In Only'

**Chapter Eighteen**

Moments of 'If Only...'

Sundays usually found Kagome at her family home. Like so many other college kids it served the purpose of having her laundry washed and getting a good, home-cooked meal, but for her it was also an excuse to keep an eye on her little brother's grades and check in on her aging grandfather without the sweet old fuss-budget realizing it. Then there was also catching up with her mother, who'd always been more like an older, possibly overprotective, friend than a parent-figure. This particular Sunday however, she felt nearly as though she was cheating her family, having simply dashed into the house and thrown her laundry into the wash before darting up the stairs to her room to rifle through her drawers and find articles of clothing she hadn't worn in so long it would be like they were brand new, all over again.

She turned in front of the mirror for what felt like the hundredth time as she smoothed her hands over the outfit she'd put together; peered at the reflection of her face and gently rubbed her fingers over the dark circles beneath her eyes for what felt like the hundredth time. Her dark green, off-the-shoulder sweater- the sleeves of which were so long the cuffs trailed down over her knuckles, a look she adored- was perfect. The pleated black skirt she was wearing was perfect. Even the pristine white knee-high stockings, soon to be accompanied by a pair of polished black boots that rose to mid-calf currently waiting for her beside the front door, were perfect. She was even having an absolutely _perfect_ hair day . . . .

But these bags under her eyes would be her undoing.

She could hardly blame herself, though. Every night for the last four days she'd had trouble falling asleep, mind numb with the trepidation that once she did Lyka would find her and try, again, to take her over. And that if it happened when she was in that vulnerable, unguarded state, than Lyka would succeed. Giving a sharp shake of her head, Kagome forcefully banished those thoughts- surely if getting to her was so easy, that troublesome specter would have done it already. Unless Lyka _could_, but simply didn't _know_ how . . . yet.

That notion was nearly enough to make Kagome's stomach roil. Hadn't she learned enough as of late that there was a drastic difference between simply not possessing a particular capability and having the capability, but lacking the knowledge of how to apply it?

"Hey," her mother said as she poked her head through the door, giving Kagome a start, "do you have a date? Why didn't you say anything?"

"Huh?" Kagome blinked rapidly a few times, blue eyes flicking from her mother's curious face to her own reflection and back again.

The realization of how this moment must look forced her to stand bolt-upright, eyes going wide for a second. She was behaving like she was going on a date and she understood instantly that- despite how tiresome and wearing her week had been- she was acting this way because she was meeting Professor Taisho outside of school. Swallowing a hard gulp as she rolled her eyes at her own naivete, Kagome gave another shake of her head.

Frowning at her reflection, she replied finally, "Um, no, I don't have a date, just . . . meeting Sango and some of our old friends from high school at the mall in a little while," she hated lying to her own mother, but it was spit out the long-rehearsed fib or give her mother a heart attack by making the poor woman think her daughter was secretly dating one of her college professors.

Scandal tended not to go over very well with parents.

"Oh," instantly her mother's sparkling grin faded and Kagome wanted to kick herself- she was still young, but she knew her mother was already waiting for the day she'd bring a nice, respectable young man home to meet her family. "Well, still, you should have said something."

Nodding, Kagome dropped her gaze to the floor, hoping she looked appropriately abashed- even if she didn't quite, she did feel it and thought that should count for something. "I know, momma, I'm sorry, I've just been distracted by school lately."

When she raised her eyes once more to meet her mother's she felt an immediate upwelling of childlike nervousness that the woman's face had rather suddenly lit up again. "Distracted by_ school_? My girl who breezes through research papers and exams practically with her eyes closed?" Folding her arms under her breasts, Mrs. Higurashi rested a hip against the door frame. "This wouldn't by any chance happen to be a male-related turn of events, would it?"

Despite her fear-wrecked sleep pattern, Kagome couldn't help breaking into a shy smile at the thought of how very pleasant it would be if she was _only_ distracted by taboo day dreams. "It . . . just might be."

"Uh-huh, and does this 'just might be' have a name?"

"I'd rather _not_ name names, he's uh . . . kind of the quiet type, so I really don't know if he even thinks of me the way I think of him." Alright, so that one bordered on a bold-faced lie, but Kagome justified it, inwardly, by insisting to herself that Professor Taisho possibly had leashed such thoughts so tightly since they'd returned to their _normal_ lives that he might have forced himself to forget he'd thought that way at all.

That idea bothered her deeply and she shoved it aside. The last thing she needed right now would be to worry about something that still couldn't be a reality.

"Ah, I see," her mother gave a knowing smile at that and nodded, pushing away from the door frame and dropping her arms. "Well, I'll let you finish getting ready, then. I'll just wrap up your helpings so you can take them back to the dorm tonight."

"Thanks, momma," Kagome called as her mother turned on a heel to disappear down the hall.

Holding in a sigh, she faced her reflection one final time. Brushing the tips of her fingers beneath her eyes again she pursed her lips for a long moment before blindly rifling through a drawer in the dresser beside the mirror to fish out a tube of wine matte lipstick. She'd never been one much for makeup, so concealer was out of the question, but she thought perhaps if she drew attention away from her eyes that alone might make the circles under them less noticeable. Once it was _perfectly_ applied, she stashed the tube, her wallet, keys, cell phone and a small compact mirror into one of the only girly-purses she owned and headed out of her room. Hitting the foot of the staircase she rounded the entrance to the family room almost automatically before halting and backpedaling a step or two. Around the bend of the entryway she saw her grandfather tending to her father's small, in-home shrine.

For a few silent seconds, she could only watch the tiny old man- who never let anyone else tend to the task of its upkeep as he refused to let the littlest thing go wrong with the tribute to his beloved son-in-law. She wished she could have simply gone to him about all this, but . . . the trembling of his wrinkled, pudgy fingers as he positioned the incense sticks, the way his small, stooped shoulders hunched as he held in what she knew would be a rasping cough, only reinforced for her the need to shield him from such a taxing knowledge.

"Kagome?" He said quietly, as though he'd known she'd been there all the while- and she had very little doubt that he hadn't.

"Yes gran'pa?" she asked, stepping into the room and forcing a bright smile.

"Did you need something?" He turned on his heel to face her, raising his wide aged face upward toward her.

"Um n- . . . ." Kagome's voice trailed off as he broke into a short burst of coughing and she stepped forward, only to stop when he held a hand up. "No," she said when the fit had subsided, fighting to keep her smile in place, "I just wanted to say I love you."

The old man came up to her then, lifting his fingers to touch her cheek lightly. "My little girl, I love you, too. Are you alright?"

"Yes, gran'pa."

"Then you should go. Your friends won't wait forever."

She nodded, dropping a kiss on his forehead before stepping back from him to let him return to his task. Once out of the family room, Kagome gave herself a quick shake as she sniffled a little. Sometimes she couldn't help wondering if his painstaking upkeep was intended as a reminder that when he died he wanted his example followed with his own shrine.

But that was just another thing she really didn't want to think about right now- or ever, in fact. Finally letting out that sigh, she looked herself over one last time, smoothing her hands over her clothes again and proceeded out of the house to where she knew Sango was probably already waiting in the driver's seat of Miroku's borrowed car.

* * *

"You didn't have to do this you know," Kagome said for perhaps the fifth time during their drive to the address Professor Taisho had provided. "I could have called a cab."

"This is true," Sango agreed with a nod before turning a soured expression on her friend, "but then it would seem like I'm stalking you 'cause I'd have come down here _anyway_ to be waiting at one of those rundown little teashops around the block with my cell at the ready in case you need me."

Sitting back against her seat Kagome only looked at her for a moment. "You're a really good friend, Sans. Remind me what I did to deserve that?"

"You let me cheat off you that first day I transferred to your high school 'cause you saw the teachers trying to make me miserable by using me to prove that 'other schools' weren't up to _their_ standards?"

Blue eyes rolled upward briefly. "Was that it? Huh, all this time I thought they were just being mean."

"And look at me now- getting the awesome grades all on my own."

Kagome put a hand over her heart, feigning a weepy expression. "My little delinquent, all grown up."

Snickering a little, Sango reached out and smooshed Kagome's face, carefully- if strangely- avoiding smearing her lipstick. "Get out of here, Mystica- go talk to the ether or some junk. Oh, and I wasn't kidding- totally waiting by the phone in case you need me."

"I know . . . okay, I'm . . . I'm going. Right now . . . ." Despite her words, it still took Kagome a few seconds to unbuckle her seat belt and get out of the car.

Putting a little more determination than she actually felt she had into her steps, Kagome approached the front doors of the antiquated apartment building as Sango pulled away from the curb. Though the wide panes of glass that surrounded the entrance were dusty and looked like they were covered with some sort of film that was probably the accumulation of decades of less than adequate washings, the doors were clear and through them she could already see a tall, broad-shouldered man with long silver hair. Before actually placing her hand on one of the tarnished, once gold-plated handles she did a quick double-take to be certain his hair was tied back. Odd that after all this it was still the only indicator that the professor wasn't . . . feeling quite like himself.

At last she pulled open the door and stepped in, not surprised when he turned instantly to face the sound. Very quickly she darted her gaze about. There was no doorman- not unusual with these older buildings- only a row of mailboxes and bells with names scribbled on weathered bits of paper beneath them, some rickety folding chairs and a noticeably dehydrated potted plant to serve as a make-shift sitting area, she supposed. When she brought her eyes to Professor Taisho, finally, it was to find him staring at her. And not just staring at her- she noted with the buzz of giddy butterflies starting to wing around in her stomach- but trying, only somewhat successfully, to give her a once-over without making it obvious that he was doing so.

Sadly, she was doing the very same, though she cringed inwardly to think of how blatant _her_ attempt likely seemed in comparison. He was clad very casually in a dark gray turtleneck and crisp, _perfectly_ pressed khakis which seemed to only emphasize how long his legs were, just as the shirt- closely fitted without being _tight_- hinted at the lean, sculpted musculature of his chest, torso and arms. Certainly casual, right down to his simple, tan shoes, yet different from the dress slacks and pale button downs he wore on campus. Oddly, she thought he almost looked as though he was . . . .

Dressed for a date.

"Higurashi," he said at last, bringing her out of her reverie. "You look very . . . . nice."

Pretending as though she didn't know what he was talking about- no matter what had happened, or nearly happened, between them, she couldn't let him think she'd dressed like this for meeting him- she quickly looked down at herself and then back up again. He_could _think it, she just couldn't pave the way.

"I suppose this is a step up from dusty jungle fatigues and dirt smudges everywhere, huh?"

He shook his head. "I didn't mean . . . . I'm sorry, did this take you away from some . . . thing else?"

Kagome thought she spotted the minute flaring of anger as he nearly asked if she was meeting some_one _else_. _Perhaps he'd not forced himself to forget, after all. "No, not at all, why do you ask?"

Cracking the faintest hint of a smirk Professor Taisho offered a barely perceptible shrug. "You don't usually dress like this for classes, now do you?"

"Clearly you expect me to look the part of the studious book worm every minute of every day." She couldn't help smiling herself as that subsiding flicker of- what she dared to hope was _still_ territorial- anger was replaced by a faint glimpse of sheepish self-deprecation. "And I could say the same for you. You also look . . . very nice. Do you have a date or something?"

Amazingly- at least amazingly to _her_, as she'd never seen him avert his gaze from anyone while speaking to them unless the focus of the discussion was another thing entirely- he dropped his eyes to the floor, holding that ghost of a barely there smirk in place. "No, but then I suppose a prearranged meeting with a young woman I seem to have a spectacular rapport with in a strange building wouldn't count in that regard."

For a moment she was almost at a loss of how to process that eloquent verbal hinting. He was nudging her in a direction- edging her toward reminding him that this was a path they couldn't traverse. He wanted her to tell him that this _couldn't_ count. She almost didn't want to . . . in this isolated moment, in this little old hovel of a lobby . . . she was standing with Taisho _Sesshomaru_.

"No," she replied, and although she was indeed saying what he needed her to say, when he raised his gaze to hers finally, she let him see her smile falter, hoping he understood that though it was _needed_ it wasn't what she _wanted_ to say, "it wouldn't."

He nodded briefly before turning back toward the row of bells and pressing one. For a long moment it was silent, leaving Kagome to fidget nervously behind him in the wake of yet another _what-if _scenario that had taken place between them before they heard the crackle and static of the ancient intercom coming to life.

"_What_?" A crotchety old voice demanded suddenly causing her to nearly jump out of her skin.

Professor Taisho- oddly, she thought, as this man was clearly his elder, _and_ someone he was seeking aid from- assumed a tone a fraction more authoritative than that which he normally used in the classroom and all but bark into the tiny speaker. "How dare you speak to me in such a manner, old man!"

Wide blue eyes leaped frantically from the intercom to the professor and back again as a long pause followed, but she felt an instant wash of relief when the reply finally came back. "Oh, Sesshomaru, I'll be right there."

Glancing over his shoulder at her, Professor Taisho gave a minute shrug. "I suppose I don't have to warn you that the little guy can be a handful."

"Little guy?" she echoed, her brows shooting up into her bangs.

Another shrug as he held his hand up, giving an approximation of the gentleman's height. Kagome couldn't help scowling as she noticed that it was a few inches over her own head.

Looking pointedly at his hand, she kept the scowl in place as she dragged her gaze to meet his. ". . . That's _little?"_

He opened his mouth to speak, but paused as he gave a _sort of _nod. "I suppose I could attempt to soothe your pride by saying that many people I know are 'little' in comparison to my height?"

She folded her arms under her breasts, letting the scowl fade to a slightly darkened frown. "But you aren't going to, are you?"

Slipping his hands into his pockets- managing to achieve an oddly graceful slouch with very little effort- he offered a minute shake of his head. "No. Are you alright, by the way? You look a little tired."

"Oh," she said- the sidetrack stopping her from angrily, if childishly, stamping a foot at him- taking a second to realize she'd completely forgotten about the circles under her eyes. "Yes, it's just . . ." the next words caused a little jab in her chest, they were partly true, but she wished, very much, that they weren't, "my grandfather."

He turned his face a little more fully toward her- the gesture meant to let her know that she had his complete attention and she understood that. "Is he alright?"

"Yes," she said quickly. "For the time being, anyway. He has problems with his lungs. If it's alright, I don't really want to talk about it."

She thought she could see a brief struggle playing out behind his eyes between feeling disappointed that she was reluctant to talk about it and understanding that her reluctance likely had nothing to do with him. "Of course, Higurashi."

The electronic buzzing of the inner door being opened met their ears, drawing their attention away from what bordered on becoming another personal moment between them. She looked toward the entryway to see a thin, old man in a threadbare, but immaculately cared for _yukata_ stepping out. His face looked strangely wide set on such a wispy frame and his nose appeared so long and sharp as he turned his head to regard Professor Taisho that she thought she might be in danger at some point of getting an eye poked out by it.

"Sesshomaru," the old man warbled after holding the younger man's gaze for the creeping passage of a long, silent moment. "You've been through some adventures lately, haven't you?"

The professor gave an almost respectful, if markedly brief, bow. "No more than my usual shenanigans, old friend."

"Hmph," the little man grumbled, turning his beady gaze on Kagome, "you notice how he puts the emphasis on 'old' rather than 'friend'- as though I need a reminder?"

Kagome only gaped at him until she was nudged into motion by Professor Taisho's words, bowing deeply and respectfully, as he said, "Myoga, this is Higurashi Kagome. I trust I can leave her in your capable hands."

"Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Myoga."

Myoga hmphed at them again. "At least your girlfriend has some manners."

This sparked a moment of sputtering on Kagome's part, and some confused semi-glaring on the professor's, but instantly the old man was waving a dismissive hand at them before turning away to start pulling the door open. "Tsh, tsh- I know that isn't the case with you two. Don't begrudge an old man a moment of amusement at your expense. Come along, Kagome- and none of that 'Mister' stuff!"

She could only watch after him for a second before turning helpless eyes on Professor Taisho. He was handing her off to someone that might well be the kookiest old man in their hemisphere! The professor gave a reassuring nod and reached out to catch the door, holding it open for her. "You'll be fine, now get in there. He may not look it, but he's quick and you will get lost in this building."

Forcing a gulp down her throat at the thought of wandering around the antiquated old place, likely with spirits all its own, she rushed forward, briefly- as she'd almost forgotten- spinning on her heel once inside to face Professor Taisho. "Thank you, professor."

"You're welcome, Higurashi," he replied as he released the door to let it swing slowly closed.

Turning around again to find Myoga she spotted his sprite-like form at the end of the poorly lit corridor.

"C'mon, c'mon," he called as he pushed open a door.

"Yes, Mist- . . . Myoga," she called back, jogging lightly after him.

He waited patiently inside the doorway for her to follow him in and remove her boots. She closed the door behind her and turned to peer into the small, sparsely furnished space through hanging, puffy clouds of some sort of incense. Unless it wasn't incense and the hold man was_ kooky_ for another reason entirely.

"So," the wizened old figure said over his shoulder as she followed him into what was apparently the living area, "first we will talk about you and find out just how much assistance your require in honing your 'sight' and then you will tell me exactly what's wrong with my young friend Sesshomaru."

Kagome blinked rapidly, nearly tripping over her own two feet as he turned to face her. "Ex- excuse me?"

"There's a dark influence around him and I can tell that this is not news to you. You're going to tell me what you know so we can work to lift this burden from him."

She could only stare back at him for a long moment, not certain if she should feel relieved that he'd taken the decision about how much she could tell him out of her hands entirely or if she should be terrified that anyone could glean so much with a simple look.


	19. The Burden of Knowledge

**Chapter Nineteen**

The Burden of Knowledge

The old man puttered about, riddling Kagome with questions- some she understood the purpose of, while others she was pretty certain didn't have anything to do with, well, anything- retrieving items from squeaky drawers and cabinets that looked like their doors would crash right off of the hinges if a strong gust of wind caught them. When had she started sensing things? How strongly did she feel them? In what way had the entities she'd interacted with thus far made themselves known to her?

Those had all made complete and utter sense to her- as he had already pointed out at least twice- _unschooled_ mind. He'd seemed a little surprised at her _range_, as he'd referred to it, and she wasn't sure if that was good or bad. The other questions, however . . . .

"My favorite color?" she echoed with a quirked brow, not certain she'd heard him correctly.

His frail shoulders hunched as he turned to her with a vaguely exasperated expression. "I'm speaking clearly enough, aren't I?"

"Well, yes," she nodded from where she was perched on the very edge of a tattered black leather sofa, shifting a little uncomfortably under his beady-eyed squinting, "I just don't see the use of-"

"WHO is the expert here, young miss?"

The sudden spike in the volume of his warbling voice made her bolt upright a bit. "You are . . . sorry, Myoga, I meant no disrespect."

At this, he quirked a brushy, grizzled brow of his own before returning his attention to the cabinet. "Favorite color?"

"Green," she replied simply as she rolled her shoulders in an attempt to ease some of the tension in her spine.

She could see his balding, wispy-haired head nodding as he reached into the depths of the cabinet and extracted something. Turning on a slippered heel, he held up a deep green pillar candle for her to see, carefully wiping a layer of dust off of it with wrinkled fingers as he made his way back to her.

"Um," Kagome began as he held it out for her to take while setting his poor, creaking bones to kneel on the floor opposite her, "I'm sorry, I just wasn't certain it mattered. I thought different colors on the candles were for different purposes."

He waved a hand in the direction of a box of long matches that had been set on the table between them. "Measures like that are only necessary for those that lack sight and need some extra . . . nudging to connect with the things those like you and I are capable of perceiving naturally. Since you don't need that, instead we're using things that are comforting to you so that you can be in a more relaxed state and make your mind a little less cluttered."

She nodded briefly; now the lilac incense, coffee instead of tea- which he'd grumbled and grimaced about- and green candle made sense. It had always seemed odd to her that elders never explained their reasoning, but then admonished those who asked why this was this or that was that. Though, she realized dully, she'd probably see things differently when she reached the cranky-old-codger stage of life, too.

"Now," he said quietly, assuming a notably calmer and more appeasing tone as she lit the candle and set it precisely in the center of the table beside the tray of burning incense, "these meditations you conducted . . . ."

He seemed so serene and- as Professor Taisho had warned- moved so quickly that Kagome never saw it coming, but the next thing she knew her forehead was stinging ever so lightly and Myoga was pulling a hand away to sit back on his heels again. "That was very stupid."

Frowning, she touched a hand to her bangs, brushing them out of the way to rest the tips of her fingers against her skin. "You don't have to be mean about it."

The old man's shoulders slumped. "That was to remind you to never again do something like that again until you _know_ what you're doing. It was wise to have someone with you, though. What led you to such an idiotic decision?"

"Okay, remember how you said we'd talk about me first and then Professor Taisho's problem?"

Myoga nodded.

"Well, they're sort of tied together. It wasn't just my 'sight' that began when we were near that temple- everything began there."

Another nod. "But it was your sight that made him decide to bring you to me, I presume? He offered rather than you asking for help?"

Blue eyes blinked rapidly a few times. "How did you-"

"I didn't, I was making a guess. You being here could have only happened one of those two ways. What exactly did he tell you about me?"

Kagome opened her mouth to respond, only to close it again, lowering her gaze before speaking. " He said you helped him."

"He told you about that?" Myoga's voice held a vague hint of surprise.

"No," she replied honestly- sure, if she played it off like the professor _had_ told her, then maybe Myoga would slip up and clue her in about the whole thing with whatever his response was . . . but that just didn't feel right. _That_ and she wasn't entirely certain the old man wouldn't be able to tell she was lying. "He only said that you helped him out with something. I know it was something very upsetting for him, so I never bothered to ask or bring it up again and I know you're not going to tell me either."

"Hmm," he said, a slip of a grin on his wrinkled lips when she finally raised her eyes back to his, "perhaps you are a smart girl after all. You're right, I won't tell you because it is his cross to bear. The fact that he even alluded to it is what surprises me."

Her bottom lip stuck out in a thoughtful pout. "But it wasn't even like he really even told me anything."

Myoga shook his head. "That he even made himself think about it . . . he doesn't discuss it with anyone. Hasn't even broached the subject, from what I understand, since the day I helped him." He reached out again, this time it was only to place his old, withered hand lightly over hers. "When he chooses to tell you, you'll understand why." She felt her brows inch fractionally upwards.

"Don't you mean 'if' he chooses to tell me?"

Another shake of his head as he slid his hand away to straighten up. "There is a connection that has formed between the two of you, and it's not because of this burden that ties you together, either. He will tell you, eventually, and when he does . . . I believe you will understand why he distances himself from people."

Kagome took a moment with that. She felt an odd mixture of emotional pleasure- that Taisho Sesshomaru truly was coming to think of her as someone with whom he could share something so personal and intimate with- and a flickering, painful sadness that he'd been through something so clearly terrible.

"Now," Myoga said, brightening his expression and she honestly couldn't tell if it was forced or if the old man was spectacularly talented at compartmentalizing his thoughts, "I believe you have a tale of adventure and intrigue to tell."

Giving a quiet, surprised laugh in spite of herself she nodded and told him- in detail where necessary and vaguely where she felt detail wasn't _at all _needed- the story of how The Thief of Bliss had come to so fully entrench himself in their lives. The old man listened without interruption, or even any change of expression, save for a darkened hint of a frown when she glanced on the subject of Lyka and the botched semi-possession.

"So he pulled her from you and now she's returned?" He summed up the ending of the story.

She nodded, reaching for the cracked black-lacquer mug he'd given her to take a sip of by-now cold coffee. "Yeah. Should I be scared? I mean, is she able to recall what happened between her and me? Is she going to try to come to me again?"

He scrunched his brow for a long moment before struggling to his feet and shuffling back to the cabinet only to return with a pad and pen. "Since a portion of her was still there, and she clearly, somehow remained there and alert willingly, she's likely aware that she tried to possess you and failed. If her actions toward the end of her life- and her words to you- are any indication, it would seem she's not one who handles rejection well. She indeed may try to claim you again and you're correct to worry that sleep is a vulnerable state and that may put you in danger."

Kagome forced a gulp down her throat, but Myoga, noting her expression, made that odd _tsh_ sound a few times as he slowly lowered himself to kneel again, placing the pad on the table and beginning to scribble something on it as he continued. "Not to fret, you're already strong, so you really only need a little added protection in this area. I'm going to make a list of things you are to do nightly before going to bed until this can be dealt with in a more final manner."

"Not to sound pushy, or . . . 'unschooled', but why can't it be dealt with in a 'more final manner' now?"

"Because," he paused, rolling his small dark eyes up toward the ceiling for a moment as he tapped the pen against his chin and then going back to his scribbling, "even though we have a spiritual sense, we're stuck in our physical existence- for the most part, that is. I wouldn't think of having you attempt any sort of projection as the spirit world is _her_ realm and as you're stronger against her spirit in the physical world, she would likely be stronger than you, as a person that is still tied to their physical body, were you to traverse her territory. Bearing this in mind, we're stuck where we are and she would have to come to us in order for an effective cleansing to take place."

"I see," she replied somewhat weakly.

"No you don't, not yet, but I appreciate the attempt."

Kagome's shoulders slumped a little. It was oddly humbling to be around someone so wizened. _Many_ people were old, certainly, but not all of them cared to share- or even act as though they were possessed of- the wisdom that was said to come with age.

He tore the paper from the pad and held it out to her. Taking it, she skimmed the instructions. There was a brief list of things she was positive she could find easily enough at shops she recalled visiting with her grandfather when she was younger and then . . . .

"There's no tub in the dorms, only shower stalls and I thought you told me not to meditate."

The old man gave an _Oh, Well _sort of shrug and set the pen down on the table. "A rule that's proven by its exception. Your little . . . explorations have given you a measure of the experience one would normally gain through teaching and instruction. This also isn't an exercise in trying to commune with the spirit world as your previous forays were, but simply to settle your mind and fortify your barriers so that when you sleep you'll be guarded. As for the herbs, a 'bath' isn't strictly necessary, putting them in a bowl and placing that on the floor of the stall while you bathe would suffice."

"And what happened to that stuff about people with sight not needing nudging?"

He offered a shrug. "There's sight, or the lack there of, and then there's simple, human physiology. No matter how strong a person is spiritually, there's not much they can manage if their body isn't being treated accordingly. Certain scents have particular affects on our minds and bodies. The pure cinnamon- and I mean pure, none of that spice rack nonsense- helps one concentrate, while the lavender is relaxing. That being said, I would also suggest that you consider switching to a vegetarian diet."

Her mouth dropped open at that. "You're kidding me."

Myoga held up a hand. "Tsh. I said you might want to consider it. Eating the flesh of animals can weigh us down. Perhaps merely cut back, or, if you do change your diet, do so sensibly- be certain you are still getting all of the nutrients your body needs. Poor nutrition or lack of nourishment can make you vulnerable because, by it's very nature, it distances the mind from the body- hence why fasting before certain rites or rituals is done."

He struggled to stand again and once he was on his feet he gestured for her to stand as well. "Now we're done for today, you may go."

"Go?" Kagome shot to her feet, nearly crushing the paper in her hand. "But we haven't talked about what to do for Professor Taisho."

Again he slapped her forehead, moving with such odd and misplaced speed that she was only capable of covering the area after he was already pulling his hand away. "One step at a time," he said, shaking a finger at her. "We must deal with your problem first. I know it may seem like the lesser of two evils to you, by your nature you're more concerned for Sesshomaru than you are for yourself. While that is a brave and noble way to view the world, it isn't very realistic for your situation."

Kagome wanted gripe and moan and browbeat him until he told her what she wanted to know, but she knew she had to respect his wisdom in this. Despite grasping this, she still had to will her legs into motion to follow the old man to the door; still had to force herself to shove her feet into her boots.

"The only way to banish a demon completely is by learning their _true_ name. I know what you're going to say, but this 'Nah Rah Ku,' that is not the thing's name. You said it yourself, he referred to that as what the people called him."

She'd not considered that before- really, she'd had no reason to- but now that she thought back on what she'd told Myoga, on what the demon had told her, he'd never _said_ it was his name. "He played the semantics game with me."

Myoga nodded, folding his arms into the sleeves of his _yukata_. "And since he's not going to give you such a powerful tool, you are going to have to learn it yourself. The only way to do so, I think, might be to traverse the spirit world and it will not be safe for you to do _that_ until we've dealt with Lyka."

Kagome refrained- just barely- from rolling her eyes. This was proving to be more trouble than it was worth. "So then . . . what happens now?"

"I feel that she's going to make herself known to you. Since she won't be able to take you over at all she will find another way to get to you, but it will be something so that she is certain you _know_ she's there. When this happens come back to me and we will perform the appropriate rite. Unfortunately, unlike a demon it's not a simple banishment. We have to cleanse her of her malignant tendencies and then reinsert her soul into the natural cycle."

". . . You're talking about reincarnation?"

Once more he nodded. "And she's missed a lot of life times. She'll probably spend a few existences in some form of penance to make up for it."

This only brought up a flood of new questions, but she quickly slammed on the mental brakes. _One thing at a time_, she reminded herself sternly. She would have time to learn such things, for the moment she needed to focus on protecting herself until she could get rid of Lyka once and for all.

Kagome offered a bow as Myoga pulled open the door. "Thank you, Myoga."

"You're welcome, Kagome. Now, rest well in the coming days." His face became somber as he finished, "Not just for _this_. Your family is _going_ to need you quite soon."

She almost didn't grasp his meaning, but after only a second she heard the echo of her grandfather's dry, rasping coughs in her head. "How," instantly her eyes were welling up, "how did you know?"

Lightly, in the same manner her grandfather had just a few, meager, hours earlier, Myoga reached his old, gnarled fingers out and touched her cheek. "In the same way, I'm afraid, that you'll know such things someday."

She nodded slowly, forcing a gulp down around the lump that had formed in her throat. With that she stepped backward into the hallway and watched numbly as Myoga closed the door. Turning on her heel, she slowly started down the corridor only to stop again, leaning against the wall nearest her and letting her body sag into its support.

She contemplated taking the week off from school and staying with her family. But then they would ask what was wrong . . . they would be concerned. And she couldn't tell them. And she couldn't let her grandfather spend his last days worrying about her.

_No,_ Kagome thought, shaking her head sharply at herself. He needed spend his time puttering about, taking care of the family shrine and her father's shrine, bothering her brother . . . complaining about her mother's cooking- never mind that it was fabulous- harassing the cat. He needed to spend his time doing the things he always did. He had to spend these last days acting just like he always did. Acting like . . . .

He had all the time in the world.

Unable to hold herself up on her suddenly wobbly knees any longer, she let herself slip down the wall to sit on the floor. Pulling her legs into her body, she wrapped her arms around them and dropped her head down onto her knees. Was this the burden of being a medium? Having knowledge that you couldn't share for people's own good?

Letting the first tear trickle out opened the flood gates and before Kagome knew it she was sobbing. Her grandfather was going to be gone soon and that knowledge was a weight she would have to bear all on her own.


	20. Distractions, Beautiful & Fleeting

**Chapter Twenty**

Distractions, Beautiful & Fleeting

After a time she wiped a hand across her cheeks, though she was certain she'd been sitting there for so long since the tears had stopped that her skin was already dry. It seemed odd that this place was so very quiet. Perhaps it was always like this, but she supposed that was only her perception making it feel more acute- that it probably felt doubly so to her in the wake of her misery. She'd become so used to having a shoulder to lean on that being alone in such a moment was a more stark state of being.

As Kagome was about to push herself up to stand, a hand braced against the wall and the other against the floor for leverage, the chiming of an elevator drew her attention. Strange that she'd not noticed the elevator doors the first time, but then she'd been rather focused on keeping up with the surprisingly quick-stepping Myoga.

She looked up to see the tall, lanky figure partially step out, leaning back against one of the elevator doors to hold them open and folding his arms across his chest. In the dim light it took her a moment to make out that it was Professor Taisho. A handful of seconds slipped past before she realized it _wasn't_ Professor Taisho . . . the long silver hair was loose, spilling around his shoulders and she knew that up close she would see the markings that adorned his face.

He seemed to be waiting for her to make this recognition, she thought, because it was only after she frowned up at him that he slid an arm free and crooked a finger, beckoning her to him. Nodding slowly- she'd always known Nah Rah Ku would reappear sometime and that she didn't have the freedom to simply say _no_- she finally did push up from the floor, reflexively smoothing her hands over her clothing before dragging her feet down the corridor and stepping into the antiquated elevator.

She wondered vaguely if Myoga had any inkling that the demon was in the very same building as he, but then it was likely the old medium had some sort of wards in place to keep such things from entering his apartment and thus didn't feel the need to expand his extra-sensory knowledge any further than his own front door. That was probably what all that puffy, hanging smoke alluded to, as there'd been no incense lit before the lilac stick he'd selected specifically for her.

There was an odd numbness in her now as she stepped to the back wall and turned, leaning against it as she faced him and watched him retreat inward, allowing the doors to close. He pressed for the basement and midway through their quiet descent hit the stop button. Swiveling on a heel he mirrored her stance for a moment.

"Should I take it, perhaps, that I was not missed?" He murmured at last.

Though he never appeared to take much amusement from his own little jokes, she thought he must feel quite humored and couldn't help scowling at up at him. "Honestly I thought you were taking so long that by the time you visited again you'd be starving and do something I wouldn't want you to."

"Truly?" He asked with a fractionally quirked brow, closing the meager distance between them with a single, long-legged step and reaching a hand out to slip the strap of her purse from her shoulder and slide it down, letting the small bag fall to the floor. "You are less observant than I have been giving you credit for- surely you remember that before my first 'visit' I had been slumbering for so very much longer and yet I only claimed a morsel from you?"

She didn't even have it in her to roll her eyes at him then. "Look, I'm not in the mood for your usual banter, I'm having the worst day of my life and you- YOU- are the last thing I wanted to deal with right now so just . . . take your stupid offering and go away for a while, okay?"

Kagome thought she'd fall over when her outburst brought a small, slightly confused-seeming frown to grace his lips. "No," he said after a moment, not only looking confused, but a faint edge in his normally level tone hinting, as well, to some inner confusion. "It is not 'okay'. You are upset and, for once, it has not to do with me."

Dropping her gaze from his she folded her arms tightly under her breasts and slumped against the wall supporting her back. Was this all some sort of test from the fates to see how much _crap_ she could deal with and still come out sane or something? It certainly felt like it sometimes. She didn't want to think the demon had any sort of concern for her beyond keeping his sole source of sustenance functioning. She couldn't think on that level- she didn't want to think of him on that level, not ever and _especially_ not now. It would just be _too_ much for her to handle.

"Gee, you noticed that? Fan-friggin'-tastic for you!"

She didn't look at him, but from his voice she could tell that his brows had shot up. "What has gotten you so riled up?"

"Look, if I wasn't gonna tell Professor Taisho, what the hell makes you think I'd tell _you?"_ she did lift her eyes, then, only to continue scowling at him. "Seriously, could we please, _please_, just get this over with; my head's not really in a place for conversation right now."

Kagome wanted to go, wanted to be walking out of this stupid elevator, out of this stupid building and go find Sango. At least if she told Sango it was a thing she couldn't talk about, her friend would let her cry it all out without asking any questions. She was trying to compartmentalize- to throw her misery into a box and not look on it again, but it wasn't working very well. She wanted to forget that last thing Myoga had told her . . . . That was _all_ . . . she just wanted to forget.

"If you are truly so insistent," the demon murmured with a faint shrug as he raised a hand once more, pushing her hair away from her throat.

He lowered his head, bringing his lips and tongue to sweep over her skin and she was surprised at how sharply she felt the warm tingling sensation that it sent coursing through her. It occurred to her distantly as the tip of his tongue swirled and lapped, beginning to force her thoughts away, that this wasn't his power- he wasn't using that strange, if delightful, ability now- this was _her_, this was her mind's drive to put something between herself and her pain. He was using her to survive . . . maybe she could use him to help her forget, if only for a few blissful moments.

She was trying to numb her mind, to still her thoughts and let her body just do what it wanted. A quiet, trembling sigh escaped her and she turned her head away, offering more of her skin to his wandering mouth and it seemed of their own volition that her arms lifted, her hands linking behind his neck.

She felt the sweet friction of one of his thighs pushing up between hers, to press firmly against her as he brought his hands to her breasts, cupping them, kneading them roughly through her clothing. It almost shocked her that she found her hips rocking, found_herself _moving to rub that delicate little spot over his thigh through the thin fabric of her panties. Each time she worked her way forward she thought she could feel his length growing harder and harder as she pressed against him and pulled back again.

The demon dragged his teeth slowly upward along her throat, chuckling quietly at the soft moan that tore out of her as he spared a minute to suck on her earlobe. "It would seem we are quite eager for once," he whispered, pulling back just enough to look in her eyes.

He still appeared a bit confused, perhaps even caught off-guard, she thought. She didn't really care right now- not anymore, she was at her fill of things worthy of being cared about and Nah Rah Ku didn't make the list- and all but hissed at him, "Shut up and take your stupid offering, already!"

Immediately his expression iced over and in a blink he pulled away from her, before she could even react he'd snatched both of her small wrists in one of his hands to pull her arms up over her head, all but slamming them into the wall behind her. "It would seem you have again forgotten your place, little priestess."

"Have I, now?" she asked, her voice raised a bit as she frowned darkly at him- she refused to let him intimidate her, he might make a good show in reminding her of how much faster and stronger he was than a human being when it suited his purpose, but she felt certain he wouldn't actually hurt her.

A silver brow quirked at her as those gold eyes narrowed almost lethally. "I should say so. When did it become apparent that you are in any position to make demands of one such as me?"

"It really didn't," Kagome replied in an oddly reasonable tone- interesting, even letting him make her angry was a wonderful distraction. When she was around The Thief he filled her thoughts, there was simply no way to think about anything besides him, "but I just . . . Ah! Gods, you're so impossible! For once I'm not fighting you about this and you pick a fight with me, I just don't understand!"

"I do not take well to being ordered about, little priestess. I should have thought that point perfectly clear."

She realized that he wasn't trying to be difficult- though he was spectacular at that- but that he was such a prideful creature. Hearing her speak to him as though she _was_ in a position to make demands had pinged at his metaphorical armor and he was lashing out in retaliation.

"I wasn't trying to 'order you about', I just . . ." her frown lessening she simply stared up at him for a long moment before deciding to be honest about it, "I just need you to take your offering and I don't want to talk about why. That's all."

It did trouble him, oddly, that she was so vexed over something, but then, combing through this Sesshomaru's thoughts had let him understand that she was grieving for an ailing older relative. His flash of anger had not merely been for show, but perhaps it should have been more internalized, he considered, as he was angry with himself and not her. He did _not_ like that he found himself wanting to know the cause when something was upsetting to her. She wished for this offering to be taken so very much, wanted him to take her mind from her worries . . . and he _would_ oblige her.

After a moment of seeming to consider her words he took a single step backward, pulling her away from the wall with him and releasing her hands. She'd not noticed that he'd actually been supporting her weight and without the wall to fall back against she slipped to the floor, making for a decidedly graceless landing on her bottom. Sooner than she could even raise her face to yell at him he was on the floor beside her, sitting on his knees and clearly watching her expression.

She opened her mouth to rail at him, but just as quickly he had a finger pressed to her lips, silencing her rather effectively. "As you wish, little priestess," he whispered, slipping his hands beneath her arms and moving her until her back was pressed to the wall again.

"If you are going to be so very compliant," he went on in that same low, grumbling of words as he lifted her knees, parting her legs wide before pulling her panties only far enough up her thighs that they were out of his way, "then, this once, I believe I want to see your face."

"Say what now?" she asked in a low, breathy tone. Something in the way he was speaking and the way he was carefully positioning her was getting to her already and she wondered briefly if this wasn't what _anticipation_ was all about.

He only quirked a brow as he tugged up her sweater, pushing it up over her breasts. Frowning at her strapless bra and looking for a moment as though he was consulting with himself- she thought he was likely rifling through Professor Taisho's thoughts for a way to deal with it- he folded it downward exposing her breasts.

"I said," he paused, leaning down for a moment to catch one of her nipples between his teeth and suckling at it, bringing a soft gasp from her before continuing, "I want to see your face. I wish to watch the exquisite expressions you make while I am making you come."

The gasp she uttered then was for an entirely different reason. "But," she dimly thought it odd that _this_ would be the thing to make her blush, "that's so . . . embarrassing."

He smirked as he shifted himself to sit closer to her, slipping a hand between her thighs to part her delicately. "I would think," he murmured, once more pausing ever so briefly to watch her tremble as he rubbed the tip of his finger over that precious little bead of flesh, "that after all this you would no longer have such concerns around me."

It crossed her mind that he was probably right- that she had actually thought this once before, herself- but had no time to offer a response before his slid his other hand down, as well, entering her with two fingers. He pulled his face back, sitting up as straight as he could while he continued stroking his fingertip over her and she couldn't help herself from moving her hips forward, forcing his fingers to slide deeper into her.

He stilled the hand that had entered her, only watching for a moment as she kept moving, causing his fingers to enter and withdraw all on her own. It occurred to him that perhaps he should always come to her when she had thoughts she wanted to escape. Smirking, he at last gave in, pushing into her, thrusting his hand against the rocking of her hips, delighting in the way it caused her to groan behind clenched teeth.

Kagome was trembling ever so slightly each time she moved forward, each time his fingers sank into her as deeply as they could and she again tried to let her thoughts go and allow her body to do whatever it wanted. The finger working over her was moving almost slowly, in pace with the thrusting of his hand and she felt emboldened just now, knowing she wanted more than this.

He couldn't help the surprised chuckle that escaped him as she slipped a hand over his, trying to move that finger over her faster. What she did next was even more surprising, her other hand slipping around her leg to rest in the center of his lap.

Those golden eyes drifted closed as she gently drew her fingers back and forth over his hardened length. "I should think you would not want to start something you will not be willing to finish."

"Well," she whispered breathlessly, her voice trembling as she continued rocking herself back and forth against his delving hand, "I'm _not_ asking for sex, but I . . . I want to try something and you . . . said yourself the offering is stronger when you come too, right?"

"That I did," he murmured, thinking perhaps he understood what she wanted.

He allowed her to draw the zipper of his pants downward, still mildly shocked when she proceeded to fumblingly pull his length free. She grasped him gently and he instantly stilled in his ministrations.

Blue eyes snapped open, not knowing if she should be angry with him or if this had somehow made him angry with her, but just as quickly as he'd stopped he'd slid his hand over hers, pulling it away. "But I thought-"

"I am not stopping you, little priestess," he purred, bringing her fingers between her own legs and pressing them against the moist warmth there for a moment, letting the dampness make them slippery, continuing as he brought her hand back to grip around him again, "I am aiding your endeavor."

She nodded slowly, jumping a little when he suddenly slid his fingers inside of her again. Kagome let her eyes drift closed, her head falling back against the wall as she began working her hand up and down his length. He responded in kind, starting to rub his fingers over her again as his other hand slid into her in hard, steady thrusts.

"Move with me," he whispered, leaning down again so that his breath brushed over one of her breasts as he spoke, "allow the rhythm of my hand to guide yours."

Again she nodded, doing as he instructed. It was a little difficult to keep pace with him because of how wonderfully distracting the motions of his hands between her legs were. He closed his lips over her nipple and she cried out, arching her back as he suckled and nibbled at her. She was dimly aware that this did feel as it had in that sinful dream she'd had- the velvety texture of his skin beneath her fingers, how _very_ hard and warm he was in her hand.

She shuddered as the fingers rubbing over her quickened, as the hard, deep thrusting of his other hand became faster and she tried, still, to keep pace with him but it was becoming more difficult as she felt herself wanting to give in already. Every now and again as she moved her hand forward over him she thought she felt a little bead of moisture coming out of him. She was certain, though, that this was supposed to happen because each time it did she could feel the faint tremor that shook through him.

He let out a low grumbling sound as he sat back from her again and she could feel him beginning to move against her grasp, his hips thrusting to force his length through her circling fingers faster. In response to his own motions he began driving his fingers into her faster, working that precious little bead beneath his fingertips faster.

She clamped her lips shut, quieting her scream behind them as she started to come against his hands. She could hear him growling, that deep, hungry sound he always seemed to make when taking his offerings from her.

He was watching her face, as he had said he would, losing himself in the feeling of her hand working his length, in the feel of that moist, tight warmth within her becoming only tighter still as she clenched around his fingers. It was a losing battle and he let his eyes close, his head tipping back as his hips jerked erratically, almost helplessly to push himself through her gripping hand, through her instinctively talented fingers all the faster.

Kagome moaned softly, the sound echoing through the tiny space as it started to ebb and she moved against him again, hazy blue eyes opening to watch her hand moving over him. She was dimly surprised that she'd managed to keep this up while in the throws of an orgasm. As she continued rocking herself against his hands she felt it, the rippling of that smooth skin beneath her fingers.

His head fell forward then, his hips thrusting forward one final time and stilling as she slid her hand over him in steady, gentle motions. She couldn't help the small giggle of surprise that escaped her as he released himself and it shot out, decorating the wall beside her.

When he was fully spent and the last of the delicious little aftershocks of her orgasm had left her, he removed his hands from her, speaking as he delicately extracted himself from her grasp. "That," he whispered, opening his glowing golden eyes to peer down at her through narrowed slits, "it not funny."

She laughed again, realizing- though it was a reluctant realization- that she did find him amusing during these unguarded moments as she pointedly turned her head to look at the wall before turning back to gaze innocently up at him. "Yes it was. I've never done this before, so . . . maybe it gets less humorous over time."

He quirked a brow at her as he gently eased his length back into his pants and zippered them closed. "That may become a theory I will make you test."

"I'll keep that in mind," she muttered as she reached for her purse, delightfully in the moment as she opened the tiny bag and began rifling through it.

"What in all the bloody planes of existence are you doing?" It was comical, if odd, to watch the girl in her current state of rumpled undress fishing through the tiny pocket of fabric before making any attempt to right herself.

"Well, I'm sure I have tissues in here somewhere, see I emptied everything I normally carry in my pockets into here and . . . ah-hah!" She grinned triumphantly as she withdrew a small package of tissues from the bag. "See, after that time in the school I started carrying these around with me out of habit since I figured there would be times I'd need to, um . . . 'clean up' after you and there wouldn't always be a bathroom around."

"So I have made you a more practical person, then?"

She frowned up at him, noting with some minor embarrassed awkwardness that he was watching her clean herself up as effectively as she could manage. "Not practical enough, I should have brought a little trash bag or something, too. Ugh, that means I'm going to have to carry these with me 'til I find a waste basket." For good measure she took a few extra tissues and unfolded them to wrapped around the used ones before bundling them away in a tiny zippered pocket inside her purse.

Thinking on it, she handed him a few, as well, before locating the tiny bottle of hand sanitizer her mother always insisted she carry- that she'd honestly forgotten about until this moment- and he only blinked at them before looking up at her with an ever so slightly furrowed brow. "Whatever am I expected to do with these?"

One of her brows inched upward so high it caused her eyelid to itch. "Um . . . clean up after _yourself_? That gum fiasco from last time is not something I think you want to repeat, so . . . no more licking your fingers!"

"Ah," was all he said, nodding as he shifted to sit cross-legged and opened the tiny bottle to begin cleaning his hands.

Kagome kept an eye on him as she straightened out her clothes and shifted, herself, to sit on her knees as he'd been before. It was very strange to watch him do this- to see him dispense the clear liquid and rub it across the lines of his fingers and palms with an almost childlike curiosity.

He was about to use the tissues to wipe his hands dry, but she quickly caught his wrist. "No."

"I beg your pardon?" He raised his head to look at her questioningly, the glow in his eyes still fading.

She shook her head laughing a little in spite of herself. "The sanitizing lotion will dry on its own. The tissues are for _cleaning _up after_yourself_."

When he seemed to not grasp her meaning, she tilted her head, nodding toward the mess he'd made on the wall. ". . . I will do no such thing!" He muttered indignantly.

"Oh my gods . . . are all demons such big babies? This is not your temple, you don't have servants to clean up after you anymore and _I'm_ certainly not going to do it. It may make no difference to you, but I'm pretty sure that anyone that _knows _what a guy's . . . well . . . you-know-what looks like is going to recognize that and I'm not going to have the little old people that live in this building walk into their elevator and see that!"

He turned his head away, lifting his chin defiantly. ". . . No."

"Oh for pity's sake!" Raising up a little on her knees she gripped the wrist of the hand that held the tissue in both of hers and brought his hand to the wall, wiping up the mess. Releasing her hold on him as soon as that was done, she sat down again, propping her hands on her hips.

"There!" she said when he turned a barely-there frown on her.

"Hmph," he breathed the sound as he reached toward her, snatching up her purse and the package of tissues before she could blink.

"Wha . . . ?" She could only watch as he did exactly as she had earlier, unfolding clean tissues to wrap them around the used ones and shoved them into her purse before tossing it lightly back into her lap.

"There!" he echoed, a silver brow quirking slightly as he'd said it.

Kagome scowled at him. "Does childish behavior come naturally to once being worshiped as a deity or something?"

He seemed to take a moment to mull that over. ". . . Possibly."

It was only then that it occurred to her that there was a strange sort of comfort in being with him in these moments. Not that she found him- or anything about him, for that matter- _comforting_, merely that in these moments when he was unguarded she was comfortable _around_ him. She wasn't even certain that made sense, but that was the conclusion she'd drawn.

"Where will the professor find himself after this?"

He rolled his head on his neck and she cringed a little at the sound of the joints cracking as he withdrew a black elastic band from his pocket and began smoothing his hair back into a low pony tail. "There is a basement level parking garage here where he has left his car. He will awaken from having dozed off after introducing you to your new mentor. Possibly to remember a rather pleasant dream of his most favored student."

She frowned darkly- she didn't like the idea that he was making Professor Taisho's situation more difficult for him. "Do you have to do that to him?"

Nah Rah Ku offered a nearly imperceptible shrug as he rolled his eyes back, like he was thinking about something. "He is having one such dream all of his own design at this very moment, what just occurred here would not be a far stretch."

Kagome could only shake her head at that. There was just no reasoning with demons, she supposed. She watched, that numbness beginning to steal over her again, as he stood up and dusted himself off.

_You could tell him,_ that nagging little voice in the back of her head piped up suddenly. That terrible thing she knew, that thing she couldn't share with anyone . . . she _could _him and it wouldn't matter. He wouldn't care, but maybe it could ease the burden on her just a little to be able to say it out loud.

"My grandfather is dying," she blurted out, causing him to halt as he turned toward the buttons beside the elevator doors.

She raised her eyes to find him staring down at her. "Everything dies, little priestess," he said, his voice level and strangely reasonable.

"No," she shook her head, dropping her gaze again as she let herself remember, "I mean, like, _soon. _As in he'll be dead in maybe a week? And . . . there's nothing I can do about it. I can't tell anyone 'cause it's just . . . I _know_ it's his time, but I . . ." she allowed her voice to trail off, tears returning to clog her throat.

Letting out a sigh he lowered himself to sit on his heels and reached a hand out, cupping her chin and lifting her face to meet his gaze. "What would you do, had you the power? Would you prolong his life? This Sesshomaru's thoughts tell me he has troubles breathing?"

"Had I the power," she repeated in a trembling whisper, "I'd . . . I'd heal him. I'd make it so that he didn't have to hurt."

The demon nodded slowly. "And if you did and it was _still_ 'his time'?"

She sniffled, almost dazed when a tear trickled down her cheek and he raised his free hand to wipe it away, holding her gaze steadily. "Then I'd have done all I could- I'd _know_ I'd done everything I could. But this . . . I can't do _anything!_"

"I believe you have drawn your own conclusion."

"I don't understand," she whispered, giving another sniffle.

"Do everything you can for him while he is still here."

She stared back at him, into those no longer glowing eyes and understood in a jarring and painful way that perhaps she already had. "I think . . . I think I somehow already _knew_. Before my 'mentor' told me. I saw my grandfather and . . ." she shrugged weakly, "we're not the type of household that you normally throw the word 'love' around in, we all just sort of know and that's usually that, but . . . I told him because . . ." she paused, forcing a sniffle to keep her nose from starting to run and blinking back a fresh wash of tears only to continue, having to speak around the hard lump that had wedged its way back into her throat, "I just felt like I needed him to know. And I needed him to know before he's not here for me to say it anymore."

Nearly against her will she broke down again. She hadn't wanted this- hadn't wanted to remember everything so vividly, but she couldn't help it. Kagome felt she understood now, it was a dim understanding, playing second-fiddle to her pain, but she grasped that Myoga had had a good reason for telling her. So that she could come to terms with it now . . . so that when the time came she could be there, could be strong for her family.

Nah Rah Ku felt terribly confused as he watched the small female crumble into a gibbering mess before him. Gold eyes darted about the small space of the elevator as though expecting some sort of reprieve, but- of course- none would come. Nodding reluctantly to himself he carefully eased himself to sit beside the girl and slid his arms around her. He did _not_ deal well with crying females, he had to get her to stop somehow!

She pushed away the part of herself that was freaking out in shock over The Thief offering her comfort and put her head against him, letting herself cry into the hollow of his shoulder. It felt odd to be with him this way- she'd not expected him to act like this, but she supposed that nagging voice had been right, there was no one she could turn to and for all intents and purposes he was _no one._

He let his head roll back against the wall behind him- suddenly glad she'd been so insistent that he clean up after himself- his gaze on the ceiling as she sobbed, her thin frame shaking and trembling against his. In most instances he quite liked the idea of her shaking and trembling in his arms, but this was _not_ one of those instances. He felt awkward holding her as she cried, awkward acting as though he cared to be comforting to her.

It bothered him deeply that he wanted her to stop crying and it was not because he- like most males, from his understanding of it- simply did not know how to handle a woman when she was gibbering like an idiot. This somehow, simply and strangely, seemed to be because there was something about seeing _this_ woman cry that he did not like.

After a few moments she quieted and pulled away from him, wiping her hands over her face in erratic, fluttering motions. "You should go," she declared abruptly.

Nah Rah Ku nodded slowly, slipping his hands around her shoulders and pulling her up with him as he moved to stand. "As should you," he replied as he at last reached out and set the elevator into motion again.

Kagome managed a small, stiff nod of her own. "Um . . . don't let Professor Taisho know about this."

His arm fell from her then, and she didn't know if it was something about what she'd said or because the doors were about to open to let him out into the parking lot. "I will not," he said simply, not turning his head to look at her, "you have imparted this knowledge to me and with _me_ it shall stay."

She was left watching the doors for a long moment after he'd stepped out. Finally she hit the button to bring her back to the first floor, to that sad little lobby, and leaned back against the wall as the elevator chugged and sputtered slowly upward. Oddly, she did feel a little relieved. It was hardly as though her pain had subsided at all, but being able to get it out had taken a least a bit of the edge off of it, enough that she could function around the pain. It dawned on her distantly that, again- whether he'd intended to or not- The Thief had helped her and _again_ she hadn't the faintest clue how to feel about it.


	21. Mourning Rites

**Chapter Twenty-One**

Mourning Rites

Sitting on the floor of the shower stall Kagome reached a finger into the tupperware bowl, stirring the fresh, moist-air-dampened herbs. Pulling her arm back, she held her hand beneath the spray of the water, watching in a detached way as the pulsing stream pattered away what bits had clung to her skin.

With a sigh she let her head fall back against the wall. After that memorable- in more ways than one- elevator ride, she'd called Sango to come pick her up and they'd found their way to an apothecary shop. Though she'd shared what Myoga had told her, as well as her instructions, she'd kept her word to herself and not broken down on Sango's shoulder. She'd also not been able to bring herself to speak on her most recent visit from Nah Rah Ku because she didn't feel she'd be able to avoid sharing those last awkward few minutes, as well, and she didn't think she could bare the look of disbelief that would come into her friend's eyes at the thought that the demon had tried to comfort her.

_No,_ Sango would have said, _he's just playing with your emotions to keep you right where he wants you. _Unfortunately, Kagome couldn't fully disagree with that notion, either. Perhaps that was all it had been . . . it didn't matter if he had helped her, it had been what she'd needed in that moment and that was how she needed to treat it, as a moment that had already come and gone. She was still left with the demon and she still needed to be rid of him.

She frowned darkly when her heart gave an odd little twitch at that thought. Shaking her head, she reminded herself that the professor needed to be safe, and he never would be so long as The Thief still lurked somewhere within him. That amendment made the idea sit better- thinking of Professor Taisho always made her feel better, always helped to put her increasingly unique situation into perspective. The demon was evil and manipulative and if not for him hijacking part of Professor Taisho's being she wouldn't be in this mess at all.

Giving a firm nod, she pushed up to stand and turned off the water, scooping up her bowl and stepping out of the stall to begin drying herself off.

* * *

"Hey," Sango said with a tired grin as Kagome came back into their dorm room and closed the door behind her. "Ready for your nifty sleepy-time meditation?"

Kagome gave a short, slightly self-depricating laugh as she unwound the towel from her hair and draped it over the radiator to dry. "Ready as I'll ever be for something I've never tried before."

"Well, I'm exhausted, so you won't hear a disturbing peep out of me. Night, Kags."

Kagome could only roll her eyes, "Still with that. Night, Sans."

Giving a nod Sango waited for Kagome to light the candles she'd bought, as per her list of instructions, and then switched off her bedside lamp before turning onto her side to face the far wall. "Promise me one thing, Kags."

"Hmm?"

"If this whole 'Lyka will make her presence known' happens by way of her trying to possess . . . oh say, _me, _don't let her do anything stupid while she's playing house with my body, okay?"

Kagome groaned, letting her head fall back to stare daggers at the ceiling as she took off her robe and sat cross-legged on her bed. "I so don't want to think about something like that, but yes, you have my word."

By the flickering light of the candles she could make out Sango's dark head nodding against her pillow. This was shortly followed by the sound of soft, possibly borderline unfeminine snoring. Blue eyes narrowed to slits for the barest second- she'd always envied that Sango was one of those people that could fall asleep the moment their head hit the pillow. She also _really_ didn't want to think on the possibility that Lyka might just try something like that.

The last thing she needed right now would be for something to compromise her lone confidant. Giving her head another shake- it seemed like so many things that could go wrong were her _last thing she needed_, but it wasn't until an idea was presented to her that she realized how very much worse her situation could be with the alteration of a some previously unconsidered aspect.

When Kagome came out of her mediation half an hour later she felt markedly better. Nothing had really changed, but the simple knowledge that she could sleep safely made all of the difference in the world. As she blew out the candles and snuggled under her blanket, she looked once more to her slumbering friend.

As sleep began to steal over her, she felt herself distantly wishing that her troubles were only the ones she'd been able to confide in Sango. When she'd stopped home that night she hadn't been able to face her grandfather, nor even look her mother in the eye- which, rather unfortunately, had led Mrs. Higurashi to wondering aloud if her daughter had fibbed about having a date. This playful observation, so light and flippant and carefree, had only served to bring Kagome to the verge of tears all over again.

* * *

"Now, I think what you will find most interesting about this particular culture is that . . ." Professor Taisho let his voice trail off as a knock sounded at the door. Frowning lightly, he held up a finger to the class. "One moment."

He stepped over to open the door, immediately beginning a hushed, rapid conversation with whomever was standing there- Kagome didn't doubt that whatever was being said had begun with the professor verbally tearing the person a new one for interrupting his lesson- but he went oddly silent for a moment. There was something deeply upsetting to her in the way his shoulders suddenly fell, sagging as he leaned against the doorjamb for a moment and then almost instantly pulling himself upright again.

Turning his head slowly, those amber eyes landed squarely on Kagome as he said in that low voice that she'd heard from him only twice before, "Higurashi, pack your things . . . you're needed at home."

She felt a shock of cold wash through her. She'd been expecting this, she'd been dreading this . . . but even days of preparing herself had not equipped her to face it. Nodding slowly, she offered Sango- whom she knew was watching her curiously- a faint shrug, pretending as well as she could that she wasn't certain what this could be about, as she stowed her papers and pen into her backpack and hoisted it over her shoulder to stand.

Her legs were numb and rubbery as she forced them into motion to bring her to the door. One of the secretaries she recognized from the administration office stood before Professor Taisho with a sympathetic look on her face that Kagome dearly wished she didn't have to see right now.

"If you'll come with me, Ms. Higurashi," the woman was already saying, turning on a heel and speaking over her shoulder as she began walking, "I'll help you fill out some forms so that you can complete your assignments for the week from home. We need to let your other professors know, as well."

"I . . . I don't understand," Kagome managed to say weakly.

The secratary glanced at her briefly and then at Professor Taisho, who only waved dismissively at her. "Give us just a moment, she'll catch up."

Giving a nod of understanding, she started walking again, trying to be subtle about not wanting to intrude on the news the girl was about to receive.

"I'm so sorry, Higurashi," he began, his voice so low that even standing right in front of him, Kagome had to strain to hear him, though she understood this was because of how quiet the corridor was at the moment, he didn't want to chance being over heard, "it's your grandfather."

Despite her foreknowledge of this moment, hearing the words felt like she'd been struck, jarring the air from her lungs. She tried to collect herself instantly, drawing in a deep, shaky breath.

After a long moment of simply watching her, Professor Taisho offered in that same low, barely audible ribbon of sound, "Would you like me to go with you?"

Immediately her eyes snapped up to meet his. She wanted to say yes, wanted to let him put his arm around her and hold her up, wanted to lean against him and cry into the hollow of his shoulder until every ounce of moisture had been wrung from her body.

Instead, she said what was needed. "I _would_ like that," she whispered, vaguely surprised she could speak at all, "but it wouldn't be appropriate. It . . . wouldn't look right."

He nodded slowly. "I understand," was all he said before stepping back into the classroom and closing the door between them.

Kagome turned, forcing her legs to work for her once more- and very much against their will- as she darted through the corridor to catch up to the secretary.

* * *

"Now, I've . . . um, I've already called the Nisou's house," Mrs. Higurashi was saying, her voice trembling a bit with every word as she climbed the stairs beside Kagome, "Kikyou's grandfather will be here first thing tomorrow to begin the mourning."

Kagome nodded stiffly, opening the door to her bedroom to find that her mother had already laid out the black _kimono_ she was to wear during the twenty-four hour mourning period that would be observed as part of their funeral rites. "How did he . . ." she paused, biting down into her bottom lip for a second to still its shivering. "Was it peaceful?"

Her mother's eyes were ringed in bright red and terribly bloodshot and she couldn't raise them to meet her daughter's gaze as she nodded. "I . . . I think so, he was sleeping."

"What do you need me to do, momma?"

She knew her mother would want to handle so many of the intricate details on her own, but they were such a small family . . . no cousins to help with the dozens traditions, and- though her mother might not want to ask- there was no way any one person could handle everything on their own.

"I've already started making phone calls . . . Souta already helped me prepare dad for . . . um, for the cremation so . . . we're just waiting for Mr. Nisou. Tomorrow, tomorrow people will start coming by to give their obituary offerings, so I'm going to need you to stay in the house and greet everyone and accept them."

Kagome had only seen her mother look like this once before, but then she'd been a little girl when her father had passed and hadn't quite understood how anyone as beautiful and vibrant as her mother could suddenly become so fragile and shaken. She wanted to tell her to sit down and rest, to let her children handle things, but she already knew the woman would say no.

"Is that it? Momma, there's so much that needs to be . . ." Kagome let her voice trail off as a lightly trembling finger pressed over her lips. "The Nisous understand our situation, they've agreed to help with some of the aspects." After a moment her eyes softened and she spoke clearly, if only for a few precious seconds, "Kagome, I know you want to do this all for me, that's just how you are but . . . I _need_ to do this or I'll never forgive myself for not doing all I possibly can to make sure everything goes accordingly."

Kagome could only nod again, understanding somewhat. She knew that someday, when she had to deal with losing her mother, she would likely feel the same way.

Clearing her throat, she crossed the room and began rifling through her drawers- the _kimono_ might be for tomorrow, but she was still going to respect the tradition and change into solid black clothing for the remainder of the day. "Where's Souta? How's he doing?"

"He's . . . not handling it well. He's out at the shrine," her mother quirked an unhappy brow, lowering her gaze again and muttering surprisingly calmly, "yelling at Amaterasu, when last I left him."

Despite her sadness, Kagome couldn't help the shock that forced her eyes wide as she turned from her search to stare at the woman- she couldn't comprehend anyone, let alone someone raised by a shrine priest, being so disrespectful. "He's doing what? Next you'll tell me he was cursing our ancestors!"

"No . . . but he's a thirteen year old boy, I'm sure the spirits will understand . . . as long as he doesn't carry on too much longer."

Rolling her eyes, Kagome threw a few articles of clothing on the bed. "You go see to things, momma . . . I'm sure you still have calls to make and more preparations to get underway. I'll take care of dinner . . . and giving Souta a sound lashing when he's done with his little rampage."

"Don't be too harsh with him, Kagome," her mother said quietly, tears working their way back into her voice as she put her hand on the door knob and stepped out into the hall, "he's mourning, too. Think of what your grandfather would say."

Kagome couldn't help the small laugh that escaped her at that as she remembered the severe scolding she'd gotten once for playing in the shrine. "He'd give Souta a sound lashing himself . . . and then say that everyone mourns in their own way."

Mrs. Higurashi nodded before closing the door to allow Kagome to change.

* * *

"Thank you so much for your kindness," Kagome said for possibly the twentieth time already since Kikyou's grandfather had officially commenced the mourning period with a series of chants, songs and prayers, bowing deeply before ushering another few mourners to the door.

Once they were gone she made her way back to the draped folding table her mother had set in the living room for the purpose of collecting the obituary gifts- monetary offerings given by friends to help ease the financial burden the passing of a loved one might put on the family. Frowning to herself a little thoughtfully, she jotted the name of these most recent visitors down on a pad she'd set on the table. After a time they were expected to send mourning cards to those that had brought offerings as well as gifts for any close friends of the family that had helped and she didn't want to risk leaving anyone out.

She just had no idea her grandfather knew so many people, she wasn't certain she even recognized half of them.

"Kagome," her brother's voice called suddenly from the kitchen, giving her a start.

Sitting down at the table, she propped up her elbows and let her face fall into her hands. "What, Souta?"

He walked into living room slowly, trying not to trip over the hem of his traditional vestments. Their mother had been overzealous in compensating for his most recent growth spurt, apparently, leaving him to look nearly as though he was playing dress-up in his parent's clothing.

"Listen, about . . . about helping mom with the ashes . . . ."

Kagome lifted her face from her hands and turned to look at him. She didn't think kids could get bags under their eyes, but now that she was inspecting him closely, the poor thing appeared to have not slept a wink all night. He'd already helped their mother so much yesterday- did things Kagome didn't think she'd have made it through completing herself- that perhaps it was too much to expect him to help sort through their grandfather's ashes for any remnants of bone that hadn't burned.

She nodded slowly. "If momma needs help I can do it . . . you might have to take over accepting the gifts for me, though."

He let out an exasperated sigh, falling onto the couch and throwing an arm across his eyes. "Yeah, 'cause I'm _so_ personable today."

"So . . . I should do both . . . run back here every now and again while I'm helping mom with that? Should I also- just to make it really special, make sure I carry the chopsticks I'll be using and one of grandpa's bones with me while I'm at it?"

Immediately she felt apologetic for the outburst, her eyes wide as Souta dropped his arm to meet her gaze. "Hey, sis, I'm sorry . . ." he gave a sniffle and wiped at his cheeks reflexively. "I know you're sad, too, I just thought . . . ya know, you worked with dead people and stuff, so maybe you could make it through that, is all."

Allowing a small sigh to slip out she pushed the chair back and came across the room to lower herself onto the cushion beside him. "There's a difference," she said quietly as he dropped his head onto her shoulder, "between dealing with people who died centuries before you were born and dealing with someone you grew up learning from and listening to, ya know? I'd try to put this all in some kind of clinical mindset, but . . . I don't think it would be any easier for me, but I'd get through it because our mother needs us."

He nodded, sniffling again and slipping his arms around his sister to hug her tightly. "I know. Um . . . Kagome?"

"Yeah, Souta?"

"I miss him already."

She gave a nod of her own, knowing her brother was about to break down and reminding herself that she couldn't- not right now when he needed her. "Me, too."

"I'm . . . ya know, a guy . . . and I'm not supposed to but . . . ."

Already she could feel him shaking and she eased his head down a bit, pressing his face delicately into the hollow of her shoulder. "It's okay, Souta, you can cry . . . I won't tell anyone."

Instantly he was sobbing loudly and Kagome could do nothing more than hold him tightly, gently swaying back and forth as she knew their mother would have. She rested her cheek against the top of his head as he cried, as he screamed against her shoulder, letting the world know how angry he was, even if she was the only one who'd hear it this time.

It seemed a long time passed before Souta quieted, and a longer time, still before he was able to pull away. Standing up, he straightened his vestments.

"I'm going back to the shrine to check on mom," he said quietly, his still-maturing voice a bit hollow.

Kagome nodded, standing as well and ignoring the giant wet spot he'd left on her shoulder. "You okay, now?"

He gave a short, utterly humorless chuckle. "Not even a little bit, but . . . you're right. Mom needs both of us so . . . I'll help her with the ashes."

She managed a grateful smile. "Thank you, Souta."

Souta shrugged, turning on a heel and starting toward the back door. "I'm the man of the house now, sis. Honestly that scares the shit out of me, but I can't let grandpa down and I can't always hide behind you, either."

Kagome watched him leave, wondering, briefly, if these weren't those moments when her little brother was growing up right before her eyes. No sooner had she resumed her seat at the offering table than the door bell was ringing again.

Holding in another sigh- she had lost count of how many she'd let slip out in just the last few hours- she stood and crossed the room. Opening the door she halted entirely, feeling her heart hammer against her ribcage for the barest second. She could only watch as he sprinkled some salt from the basket they'd set beside the front door over his shoulder and dusted his fingers off. He raised his gaze to hers then and it was a wonder to her that she could swear she detected some of her own sadness reflected in his eyes.

"Hello, Higurashi," Professor Taisho said after a moment of the two staring somewhat awkwardly at one another. "Are you going to invite me in?"


	22. Truths, Beautiful Amidst Pain

**Chapter Twenty-Two**

Truths, Beautiful Amidst Pain

"Um . . ." Kagome was partly shocked to see him standing there, partly kicking herself, because she felt she should have guessed he'd stop by and, even if he only remained for a moment, that would be enough for her. Moving aside and sweeping her hand out, she stumbled on, "P-please, come in."

Professor Taisho gave a brief, nodding bow and stepped in, allowing her to close the door behind him. His amber gaze skittered quickly over the room as he removed his shoes, before letting his eyes land on her. "How are you holding up?"

She uttered a small, mirthless laugh as she walked around him and made her way back to the draped table. "Better than my mother and brother are, but that's not saying much."

"Higurashi . . ." he said softly and she had to force herself not to turn toward him. His presence was too comforting to her already and she didn't want to be comforted, not right now, she wanted to feel this pain, wanted to hold onto it and let it remind her of how harsh her reality was.

Letting out a heavy, though short sigh he stepped around her and set an envelope on the table beside the others. "I didn't come by merely to drop this off and express condolences. If you need to talk, I'm here."

Another completey humorless chuckle escaped her as she leaned her hands on the table for support and let her head fall back, staring up at the ceiling for a moment. Why did he have to say exactly the right thing at exactly the right moment?

And why- oh sweet gods _why_- did she have to be in love with the one man she couldn't really have?

"You didn't have to do this," she muttered, tapping the envelope lightly with the tip of her finger, forcefully ignoring how being so close to him made her feel, "you didn't know my grandfather."

"That is true, but I know you and I would like to think that over these months we've become friends." Along with her emotions, she ignored that for the briefest second he'd paused, he'd been about to say they'd become _close, _but had been of the presence of mind to interject the more appropriate word at the last moment. "To not come here . . . to not give an offering would be denying that fact. You should know me, by now, I think and denying facts is simply not in my nature."

She nodded slowly, reaching with suddenly, oddly numb fingers to pick up the pen and jot his name down on the pad. "Would you like . . . a cup of coffee or something?"

Kagome did turn to look at him, then, to see him wearing a small, sad, whisper of a smile. "Please."

Giving another nod, she turned on a heel, trying to avoid looking at him again as she started for the kitchen. Soft, sturdy footfalls sounded behind her and she wasn't certain if she was glad that he was following her or angry about it. He wasn't going to be happy until she broke down in front of him, was he?

"If you tell me where everything is, I can do it," he offered in a low, even tone.

"No," she said quickly as she began rummaging through cabinets to retrieve ground coffee and the sugar bowl. "I need to . . . keep doing things. I don't mean to seem rude, but . . . maybe you don't understand. I _have_ to keep functioning."

For a long moment it was silent, save for the sound of her preparing the coffee maker before he gave a slow, brief nod. "I understand," was all he said in reply.

Kagome didn't let her mind work on that, didn't turn it over at all. He was eventually going to let her into his heart, and she, by now, was certain she hadn't needed Myoga's advisement to help her grasp that. Though Myoga's words had let her realize something . . . that Professor Taisho's pain was tied to the loss of someone dear to him. And his wounds were something she didn't have the ability to cope with at the moment, not now while she was dealing with her own.

"Where's Ryoushi? I thought she'd be here hanging over your shoulders."

It was a wonder that she managed a quick, genuine laugh at that. "She's coming by this afternoon. After classes . . . speaking of which, shouldn't you be teaching right now?"

"Personal day. Though technically, this is business as I'm partly here on behalf of the school, to express the sympathies of the faculty."

"I see," she murmured with a faint grin as she turned to face him, resting a hip back against the counter. She should have known he'd have found some completely plausible and _appropriate _way to smooth over his absence and not make it seem like favoritism.

It was silent, again, for a few moments, before she found herself blurting out to him- in that way that his mere presence seemed to always coax some bit of truthfulness out of her. "I knew, ya know . . . I knew he was going to pass."

"It was because of the feelings you get?"

She gave a short nod before stopping herself. "Yes and no. Myoga . . . gave me a veiled warning. I was . . . _so_ mad at him at first, but then I realized he did it so I'd be prepared . . . so that I could be here for my family. If not, I'd be as much of a mess as my mom, right now. But even knowing . . ." she let her voice trail off for a moment as she lowered her eyes, "I'm still not handling it well . . . like at all."

"Higurashi . . ." he whispered her name, just the barest thread of sound, mixed in with, and nearly buried under the sound of the rumbling and dripping of their battered, antiquated coffee maker. "You don't have to do this."

"Do what? Make coffee?"

He frowned, taking a step closer to her. She knew what he was saying, but was deliberately avoiding it, and they were both aware of that. "You don't have to be strong all the time. No one can be."

"Yes I do! I do have to, and I _can!"_ Strong? He thought _she_ was strong? She wanted to yell at him, wanted to curl her little hands into fists and punch him in the chest until she felt even marginally better! If he'd only known how often over these last few months she'd broken down in tears! How was _that_ the trademark of any sort of strength?

"I _have_ to do this!" She reitterrated, reflexively wiping her palms across dry cheeks as she went on. "I have to be the strong one. My mother can't be right now, Souta's trying, but he can't do it, either! He's just a boy who's lost the father-figure in his life for the_second_ time! I _have_ to be the one to hold them up."

"And what about you?"

"What about me? I'll be fine."

Another step closer and suddenly he was right in front of her and she couldn't help lifting her gaze to meet his then. "It's not a weakness to admit that you can't do everything yourself, Higurashi. There are moments when even the strongest person needs help holding it together."

Lids drifted slowly closed over instantly watering blue eyes, forcing an unwanted tear to break free and roll down her cheek. "Yeah, well . . . I don't have anyone to hold me up."

Before she knew it, he'd pulled her into his arms, gently pressing her face against the hollow of his shoulder. She couldn't fight the way her body relaxed so easily into his, couldn't escape the acknowledgment of how strong and sturdy his form was as he cradled her. Instantly she was giving in, letting herself loose all the crying, all the tears she'd been holding in since that dreadful moment she'd heard the words spoken aloud yesterday.

"I hope," he whispered softly against her hair, barely heard over her wracking sobs, "that in the future you . . . will find that person that can hold you up, Higurashi."

She gave a short, stilted nod at that. Amidst the bright, glimmering pain that was washing out of her, she understood that he was talking about himself, talking about the day when they'd no longer be teacher and student. She hoped, too, distantly albeit, that when that day came, the world hadn't worked to pull them out of one another's lives.

"Oh gods, Kagome," she heard her mother's tear-stricken voice from the back door then and immediately pulled away from the professor- though she _knew_ the hug had appeared completely platonic, that she'd broken down, and he was simply comforting her in the way anyone would have- and turned toward the woman, wiping at her eyes.

"My baby," Mrs. Higurashi was saying as she rushed forward, gathering her daughter into her own arms, "I'm so sorry . . . I've been ignoring you, haven't I?" She raised tired, red-rimmed eyes to the man standing in her kitchen, the gentleman she recognized from the university and brief discussion at the airport when she'd been placing her daughter's wellbeing in his hands for two months in a foreign country. "Professor Taisho . . . thank you for being here for her."

"He came by on behalf of the faculty," Kagome was rushing to explain, letting the last of her tears work their way out of her throat, "I was talking to him about gran'pa and just sort of broke down. I'm sorry, momma."

Disbelief skittered into the older woman's expression as she looked from Professor Taisho to her daughter, placing her hands on the girl's shoulders and pulling her up to meet her gaze. "No, no. Don't apologize. I've been so caught up with . . . everything and you've been so good and so helpful I just thought you . . . were okay."

"It's alright, momma," she said, forcing a small, empty smile as she pulled away to retrieve some mugs from the cabinet, "you've had a lot to deal with, I understand. I just . . . needed to get it out of my system. I _am _okay. Do you want a cup? I remembered my manners and offered Professor Taisho some, but there's a whole pot."

"Where are _my_ manners?" Mrs. Higurashi said, trying her level-best to affect a light tone as she bowed to Professor Taisho. "Thank you so much for helping our family through this trying time."

He gave that short, nodding bow of his. "You're very welcome."

Blue eyes rolled suddenly- Kagome didn't know if she was grateful for the reprieve or upset that her mother had interrupted one of her few and fleeting moments with Taisho _Sesshomaru_. "Momma? Coffee?"

Her mother managed a weak grin, offering the professor a light shrug. "Only half a cup, Kagome. I actually came in to get something to drink, my throat's a bit dry. She's always been so good at compartmentalizing," the woman was remarking to him in something of an observational statement.

Kagome gave a quick, light chuckle as she finished preparing her mother's coffee and handed it to her. "And _she_ so adores when you talk about her like she isn't here."

"Sorry," her mother took a sip, nodding in approval as Kagome turned back to begin fixing the professor's coffee. "In any regard, I'm glad it's you that the university sent. Kagome's always spoken so highly of you."

"Has she now?" he asked in a tone that rather effectively- though Kagome knew him well enough to know it was false- feigned surprise. "It can be difficult to tell what she thinks of things outside of the field, she is very work-oriented."

Kagome's teeth sank so deeply into her lower lip she it was a wonder she hadn't drawn blood as she turned toward the professor, staring daggers at him as she handed him his mug and turned back again to begin, finally, preparing her own. Despite the severe scowl she was fighting to hide, she was a little calmed by the idea that they were able to distract her mother from the day's sad proceedings, if even only for a moment. It was supposed to be a solid twenty-four hours of _intense _mourning, but everyone needed time to breathe, didn't they?

"Oh, yes," her mother said almost brightly, "there have been times when I couldn't get her to stop talking about you! The respect she has for you, the way you handled all of those upsetting 'stumbles' at the excavation so smoothly . . . your dedication to your field. And she's so passionate about the work. Not to push you out of your spotlight, but I kind of think she's going to be the 'next Professor Taisho' when her time comes."

"Momma, please!" Kagome couldn't help her exasperation at her mother's gushing. "That is so embarrassing!"

"It's quite alright, Higurashi," the professor was saying lightly, and she could just tell he was hiding a bit of amusement at her expense behind his serene and thoughtful expression. "It can be easy to forget that amongst all those students who come and go and eventually forget you, there are those who are grateful for the steps that go into educating them."

"Exactly! You see, Kagome," her mother said as she finished her coffee and set the mug down on the counter, "it's not embarrassing at all. He should know he has the respect of his students."

Kagome laughed in a slightly self-depricating way- why did parents _never_ understand? "I think he was already aware without you making it sound like I'm listening to his lectures with puppy-dog eyes."

"I did not make it sound that way," Mrs. Higurashi replied, shaking her head lightly. "I should be getting back now. Will you be staying long?"

He pointedly avoided glancing at Kagome as the girl sipped from her mug, looking as though she wished she could be anywhere else in the world right now. "For a little while, I should think."

"Perhaps you should stay and join us for dinner later?"

Kagome nearly spit up coffee on herself. "Mother! I really don't think that's appropriate."

"I wouldn't want to impose," he said lightly, giving the fractional quirk of a brow at Kagome's dramatic reaction, but otherwise, rather effectively, ignoring it.

Her mother was waving dismissively at the two of them. "Nonsense, both of you. It's not inappropriate, any other day he is your professor, but today he is a friend of the family and it wouldn't be an imposition . . . we're all still used to four at the dinner table, anyway." She halted for a moment, the reminder she'd just given herself about what made today different from so many days that had passed causing tears to ping the corners of her eyes, but- much like her daughter- she powered on past that. "Besides, I would like to express my gratitude for the care you took of my daughter while you were abroad _as well_ as for you being here. I know it may have been under instruction from the school that you came by, but I consider it happy coincidence that they asked you rather than one of her other professors. It's a gesture of gratitude, please accept."

"Momma . . ." Kagome hissed through lightly clenched teeth at the same moment as Professor Taisho muttered, "Mrs. Higurashi-"

"I insist," the previously demure-and-fragile-seeming woman said loudly.

Kagome stood bolt-upright and the professor's eyes widened just a smigden. When no further argument was offered by either party, the woman gave a stern nod and proceeded to the back door.

Turning back to face them one last time, she gave a graceful bow and then exited the house, closing the door behind her. It was silent for a long moment as the two simply stared after her.

"I see where you get your argumentative nature from."

Ever so slowly Kagome turned her head to look at Professor Taisho over her shoulder. "You have no idea."

He took a sip from his mug before placing it down on the counter and shrugging, "She did seem awfully insistant. I don't suppose it would do well for me to not accept such a gracious invitation."

Shaking her head, she couldn't help laughing. "Nope . . . she might just show up at school and start beating you about the head and neck with a wooden spoon. She just . . . wants something else to focus on for a while, is all. Wants me to focus on something else, and probably figures that having you at dinner means she can get us to start 'talking shop' at the table. We'll probably bore them, but at least they'll be distracted."

"I see . . ." he responded evenly as he scooped up his mug again to follow her back into the living room.

"Besides, she'll probably rope Sango into joining us, too."

". . . And Ryoushi will likely drag Miroku with her . . . ."

Kagome nodded as she put her mug on the coffee table and sat on the couch, knowing at any moment the door bell could ring and she'd have to bounce up from her place. "Well, then my mother will have something other than _us_ to focus on."

Instantly she realized what she'd said and her eyes snapped up to lock on the amber ones already staring at her unblinkingly. "I didn't mean that how it sounded."

He gave a short, quiet chuckle, seeming to think better on the fact that he was about to take a seat on the couch, as well, and remaining standing. "I know what you meant. You know, you're quite the spitfire, I'm surprised you didn't put up more of an argument."

"There's no arguing with my mother. I think that's why she acts so nice the rest of the time, so you don't see it coming."

"Then I should say you're learning well. Between your mother's training and giving me puppy-dog eyes during lectures you'll make a fine addition to the academic community."

Kagome could only roll her eyes, laughing at herself, though it was taking every fiber in her being to resist the sore temptation to hurl a throw pillow at him. A handful of quiet seconds passed before she truly realized they were alone again and some of her mother's words came floating back to her.

"Professor?"

"Yes, Higurashi?"

"What my mother said . . . about you being _just_ a friend of the family today . . . ."

She watched a little nervously and numbly as his gaze dropped into his coffee mug. "What of it?"

"Can we pretend, just for the moment, that it's true?"

He sighed heavily, his broad shoulders slouching a bit as he leaned back against the wall behind him. "Are you certain you want to? Ignoring the facts of a situation can be dangerous."

"I know, but it's just for a minute, I just want to ask you something." This was driving her up a wall. For how long were they going to be hinting and insinuating? They never discussed it, only verbally dancing around it, speaking of it as though they both already knew so the mention of it wasn't truly necessary.

And if she was completely wrong about their _situation_? She doubted she was- he'd given her plenty of reason, plenty of moments recently, to think these things all on his own. But if she _was_ wrong . . . he would tell her that . . . he would do so gently, probably, and she would be hurt, but she'd rather know the truth of things than continue hoping on a _someday_ that he had no interest in ever making a reality.

"I suppose there's no harm in seeking knowledge," he gave a faint ghost of a smile. "It is what we do, after all."

Kagome pulled her mug into her hands, taking a long sip before simply clasping it between her hands and staring down into it, unable to even glance in his direction as she ventured, "Do you ever think about the future?"

"When I'm not digging into the past."

A dark, sleek brow arched at him- with a simple quip he'd forced her to look up at him and from the expression in his eyes, she could tell that he'd intended it to happen that way. "Ha ha."

"Sorry . . . archeology joke."

"Yes, I got it," she muttered cooly with a soured expression. "Can you please answer the question?"

"Higurashi, I think about my future every day. What _exactly_ are you asking?"

"I just . . ." she averted her gaze, again unable to look at him as she spoke on this, "I need to know if I'm completely off-base."

He leaned down, setting his mug on the coffee table and straightening again, folding his arms loosely across his chest as he once more leaned into the wall behind him. "I can already tell you that you're not."

"I still have to ask, professor-"

"Perhaps it's best- for only the duration of _this_ conversation- that you call me Sesshomaru."

Kagome's cheeks puffed out and she had to let out a little, surprised huff of breath at that. "O- . . . okay. I still have to ask, Sesshomaru, because we never actually say _anything_, we talk and talk _all_ the time but . . . there's something we never discuss. And I mean, I know why we don't talk about it, but-"

"Higurashi, you're rambling."

She nodded, inwardly chiding herself for trying to hide behind words when she was the one who'd started this. "I'm sorry. Do you . . . do you ever think about the days when we'll no longer be teacher and student?"

"Yes," he said simply, his gaze on the floor.

Distantly, vaguely almost, she recalled that last moment in the temple . . . recalled what she'd thought and hoped might have _really_happened in those seconds, had Miroku shown up just a few minutes later. "Do you ever think about what it would be like to kiss me?"

"We are still talking about this future point in time, aren't we?"

"Is there any other way for things to be?"

He sighed heavily, rolling his head back to look up at the ceiling, "Not unless you've found some _spectacular_ loop hole of which I'm unaware."

She uttered a quiet, but genuine, giggle at that. "No. Do you think about, 'someday', being able to kiss me?"

It was quiet for a moment and she finally worked up the courage to lift her gaze to him. His eyes drifted closed and he lowered his head, teeth sinking, slowly, into his bottom lip before he whispered, his voice that deep, gravelly murmur he affected sometimes that she would never admit made her feel just a bit warm inside. "I think about much more than that, Higurashi Kagome."

Kagome nodded slowly, keeping her gaze on him so that when he opened his eyes they were already staring at one another. "So do I, Sesshomaru."

For a long, painfully silent moment they simply looked at each other. She was in awe . . . completely and utterly in awe. Certainly she'd known he had deep feelings for her, but . . . .

"I'm in love with you," she blurted out, immediately clamping her hand over her lips and going wide-eyed.

He flashed a small, but markedly serene smile as he replied, "_That_ is inappropriate. Not that I'm in any position to judge, as I'm guilty of that same sort of inappropriate attachment."

She couldn't fight the smile that curved her lips at that. Taisho Sesshomaru . . . in his round-about, eloquent, so-many-words way . . . had just admitted to being in love with her.

The sound of the backdoor flying open again cut, tragically, into their pleasant little world, followed closely by someone rummaging around in the kitchen. "Arg! Sis . . . sis! Where is the apple juice?"

Kagome let her head drop as she pushed herself to stand. "One sec," she shouted. "And that would be Souta. Um . . . thank you for . . . being honest, professor."

"Of course, Higurashi, besides . . . I think you're beginning to be able to tell when I'm lying."

"Maybe," she said lightly.

"Do you think perhaps we should see about assigning you to a different professor?" he asked quietly.

"What!" Kagome balked, thoughtful enough in that moment to drop her voice to a whisper. "You have got to be kidding me! No. I refuse."

"I only suggested it because I thought it might make the situation easier to deal with for the time being."

"SIS?" Souta bellowed, sounding for all the world as though he was tearing the refrigerator apart.

"One DAMN second!" She yelled toward the kitchen before, again, dropping her voice to a whisper. "Do _you_ want to put me in another class?"

"No," he said simply, giving a minute shake of his head.

"Than what's the problem? I can maintain a professional facade if you can."

"I _certainly_ can."

"Then I'm not going anywhere," she grated out stubbornly.

"SIS!"

Blue eyes roved quickly for the briefest second. "Except to the kitchen."

Professor Taisho covered a chuckle at her harried state as she spun on a heel and dashed into the kitchen.

Higurashi Kagome was _in love_ with him? He let his head roll back against the wall once more. He'd never imagined it. Almost against his will there was a part of him that wished she had taken his suggestion to switch classes. It wasn't that he _wanted_ her to go . . . . Truthfully, he wanted her as close to him at all times as he could get, it was simply that he didn't feel nearly as certain as he'd sounded about his ability to stay professional around her.

How on earth was he going to last until that far off _someday_ of which she'd been speaking?


	23. Closing Distance

**Chapter Twenty-Three**

Closing Distance

When she'd lifted her gaze to find someone other than Professor Taisho step up before the class and proceed to take the helm, Sango felt she should have realized where he was. Even so, she couldn't help the tiny, startled double-take she did upon seeing the tall, silver-haired man seated comfortably on the Higurashi's living room sofa as Kagome led her and Miroku into the house.

For a moment, she'd nearly forgotten that Miroku knew of Kagome and Professor Taisho's _affair_ and had almost slipped, had almost made a comment to let out some of her surprise over Miroku's lack of shock at finding his boss here. Quickly enough she was able to remind herself that he was under they impression that they were involved in an _actual_ relationship, so, knowing the honorable sort of man Taisho Sesshomaru was meant that he wouldn't be anywhere else on this day, even if it had meant having to fabricate a truth for the benefit of the rest of the faculty.

She held in a laugh when she realized . . . it seemed the only one in the room who was unaware of the events in Professor Taisho's private life was Professor Taisho.

There was a moment of the four simply existing in the living room, looking around somewhat awkwardly at one another before Kagome flashed the men a polite, if weak and perhaps even a bit shaky, grin as she grabbed Sango's wrist. "Would you both kindly excuse us for a moment?"

Before either Miroku or Professor Taisho could nod, Kagome was bolting up the stairs and dragging a markedly confused-looking Sango behind her. In their sudden absence, the room seemed even more silent if that were possible. It was in a stilted and unwilling unison that they turned their heads to regard each other. They'd spoken many times, of course, but this informal setting, outside of work . . . outside of the perimeters in which they were accustomed to dealing with one another made it seem that they were virtually strangers.

A few seconds of that strained silence passed before Miroku- at the same moment that the professor quirked a silver brow at him- gave a vague shrug.

* * *

Once Kagome had her bedroom door closed Sango clamped her hands over the girl's shoulders and spun her around. "What? What's wrong? Did something happen? Are you ok-"

She blinked rapidly a few times, registering almost dimly that her words had been cut off by Kagome's hand slapping over her mouth.

Blue eyes narrowed as Kagome whispered, "I am going to tell you something that you cannot breathe to another soul for possibly_years_ to come, is that perfectly clear?"

Sango nodded slowly and Kagome let her hand slip away, instead cupping it against her friend's ear- afraid that somehow, someone might overhear– and leaned close, relating in a murmur that was barely even a thread of sound the soul-baring discussion she'd had with Professor Taisho Sesshomaru.

* * *

Miroku and the professor both gave a start, their attention immediately shooting the to ceiling as a female shout of joy and what was very likely triumph sounded for the room above them. Miroku simply gave another shrug, scratching his head.

"Women, huh?" he managed with an awkward chuckle.

Sesshomaru glanced at him only briefly before raising his eyes once more, staring as though he was hoping to burn holes through the ceiling and peer in on just what was happening up there. "So you have no idea what that ruckus is about?"

Miroku puffed out his cheeks, letting a breath slip out from between his lips as he slid his hands into his pockets. "It sounds like . . . somebody got good news. That's about as well as I can translate Chick from this distance."

His gaze lowered to his assistant again, for a moment considering the young man in a different light than their interaction normally allowed. Taisho Sesshomaru _allowed _the humorous comment to get a chuckle out of him, allowed a faint half-grin to grace his lips. Apparently this was a frightening spectacle to Miroku who only blinked at him.

"I can smile, Miroku," he muttered levely.

Miroku's head bobbed slowly in an uncertain nod. "I knew you had the ability to . . . I just don't think I've ever seen you do it before."

* * *

Sango and Kagome sat on their knees, Miroku, Professor Taisho and Souta cross-legged around the low table as Mrs. Higurashi bustled about, setting this dish or that in the center. The house did, of course, also have a more modern, Western-style dinner table, but having so many guests, and as a tribute to her father's passing, Mrs. Higurashi had insisted on dining in a more traditional manner.

It seemed as though the day had taken forever to pass, but finally they had made it to this moment, and all hoped that dinner would prove to be a relatively painless event. At last Kagome's mother took her seat, and the guests gave a formal phrasing, acknowledging that they were receiving this meal from their host.

The family waited until the guests had served themselves before taking any food from the dishes and suddenly Mrs. Higurashi was chatting up a storm, to seemingly everyone and yet at the same time to no one in particular. Which dish had been her father's favorite, which had been his least liked, though it saddened her to think on such things, she could now prepare some of _her_ favorite foods for which he'd never much cared. She mentioned how she and Souta would likely alternate the duty of preparing the shrines each morning . . . and then said something that left Kagome slack-jawed.

"Wait . . . momma what did you just say?"

Mrs. Higurashi shrugged, her eyes staring unblinkingly downward into her rice. "I said . . . now that it's just Souta and me, we are going to move to someplace smaller."

Blue eyes shot from her mother to her brother- who wouldn't meet her gaze, which could only mean he already knew about this- and back again. "Momma, you _can't_ sell this house."

Her mother looked up instantly. "What? Oh, no, Kagome . . ." setting down her chopsticks, she reached across the table to gently pat her daughter's hand. "It will be difficult, but I'm not going to sell the house. I never intended that."

Kagome exchanged a quick, confused glance with Sango. "What, then?"

"This house is going to become _yours" _The older woman raised a delicate hand, waving between herself and her son, "We don't need so much space . . . and you are the eldest child, so once you graduate and will no longer be living on campus _this_ will still be your home. I think this is something your grandfather would have wanted."

"We talked about gran'pa's wishes for the future yesterday," in keeping with their traditions as a family of shrine priests, the deceased's hopes for the future were discussed within the first twenty-four hours of the departed's passing. "You never mentioned this."

Mrs. Higurashi shook her head, "I did, actually . . . I just didn't mention it to _you_ because I knew you'd make a fuss."

"Make a fuss? You thought I'd make a fuss?" Though she was speaking quietly, it was painfully clear that Kagome was struggling with the tight rein she'd been keeping on her temper- she didn't want to seem unreasonable, but this was a complete blindside.

Mrs. Higurashi lowered her gaze back to her food and pulled her hand back, again picking up her chopsticks. "Kagome, please, we have guests."

Kagome opened her mouth to respond, only to snap it shut again, dropping her gaze, as well as she picked at a bit of baked seafood- she hadn't quite taken Myoga's vegetarian guidelines to heart just yet, too much had happened recently to trouble herself over such a miniscule aspect. "I just think," she muttered evenly, "you should have told me is all."

Her mother looked up then, smiling sadly. "I'm sorry that I didn't."

It was silent for a moment before she was piping up again. "Professor Taisho, what do you think of the dumplings?"

Silver eyebrows inched fractionally upward, wary about being used as a distraction. "They're quite delicious."

"Aren't they?" It was apparent that they woman was mildly gushing as she went on, "Kagome made them, she's such a good cook, don't you think?"

Kagome squeezed her eyes tightly shut and clamped her lips together to keep from saying anything. She knew that her mother intended it as no more than a reminder that she was prepared for the responsibilities that would come with having ownership over this house, but from an outside perspective . . . it could certainly be seen as her mother trying to market a quality indicative of making a good wife.

"Yes," Professor Taisho said, "but then it would seem she excels at much."

"Now that is just not true." Kagome responded, shaking her head.

"Oh?" Although they were speaking to one another, both kept their eyes on their dishes so it nearly appeared they were having conversations with their food. "Name one endeavor you've undertaken that you've not done well?"

"Um . . . ."

"Off the top of your head, one thing."

She gave a shrug, finally, unable to hide that this had caused her to crack a smile. "I seem to be really bad at relaxing."

Professor Taisho graced her with a short, low chuckle then. "You're a girl after my own heart."

Immediately after those words fell from his lips Kagome, Sango, Miroku and the professor all gave small starts before they each glanced quickly around the table. Mrs. Higurashi didn't seem to notice as she fussed with pouring more sauce into a shallow dish and Souta noticed . . . something was up, but couldn't quite make heads or tails of it.

Professor Taisho set narrowed eyes on his assistant and the young man's girl friend. Did they . . . _know_? Was that what all that nonsense was about earlier? Surely Kagome might have confided in Sango, that was what girls did with their best friends, but he doubted either would have the sheer lack of common sense to have told Miroku. The man was certainly personable enough, but not much about him shouted _trusted confidant_. That, and Miroku hadn't been out of his sight all afternoon, there simply hadn't been time.

Unless . . . unless he'd been too obvious about his feelings. _Oh, bloody hell . . . ._

"So, Mrs. Higurashi," Sango said suddenly in a bright, chipper tone that only Kagome really knew was feigned- and it was all she could do not to mouth the words _thank you._ "I was wondering if you and I could work on something together."

Mrs. Higurashi looked up smiling and for a moment her daughter thought she glimpsed the beautiful and vibrant woman she usually knew her mother to be. "What would that be, Sango?"

"Kagome's big two-oh is coming up, I thought we could plan a party."

"I think that's a wonderful idea. We have nearly two months, that should be plenty of time to make arrangements."

Kagome set down her chopsticks and set her hands on the table, looking from her friend to her mother and back again. "Wow, I . . . completely forgot my birthday's coming up. You two don't really need to make a big deal about it."

"Oh, don't be silly . . ." Mrs. Higurashi was saying as she stood up from her seat and disappeared momentarily into the kitchen, returning remarkably quickly with another serving of skewered beef to set on the table and resuming her seat as she continued, "It's not every day that your eldest child ages out of being able to be considered a child."

"I thought that had happened when I turned eighteen," Kagome grumbled quietly, only to have her mother _and_ Sango both wave dismissively at her.

"Hey," Souta finally chimed in on the conversation, "my friend Ryo has this cousin that lived in America for a while and he said that over there the big deal is turning twenty-one."

"Really?" Mrs. Higurashi said, the misplaced-seeming mischievous tone in her voice making Kagome look up at her with a smirk, nearly expecting it when the woman winked at her. "Maybe we should move there Souta, so you can be my baby boy for an extra year."

" . . . Forget I mentioned it," the boy said, bringing a light, tension releasing laughter from all around the table.

Or rather, it _seemed _to come from all around the table. Professor Taisho Sesshomaru made a good show of feigning laughter. A few minutes later, he even made a good show of smiling good-naturedly as he and his assistant and students regaled Kagome's mother with some of the more humorous tales from their time at the site and was careful to edit out the parts of their adventures that had been dangerous to the girl.

_Girl _. . . there it was again.

As all of these little pleasantries had taken place on the surface, a corner of his mind had been picking at something. For a very long time now he'd been thinking of Higurashi Kagome as just that, a girl, despite _knowing_ that she was a grown woman. It had merely been a device, just another of many little things he'd kept in place for the sole purpose of accomplishing a single thing. Keeping Higurashi Kagome at a distance.

The turn the conversation had taken was pulling that away from him. Simple words forcing him to acknoweldge that he would not be able to keep her at arm's length forever. And with her nervous, blurted, heartfelt confession earlier, he knew that their promise to keep up appearance would be even more daunting.

* * *

"Thank you for a pleasant dinner," the professor said for perhaps the tenth time that evening as Kagome stood on the front stoop with him.

She laughed quietly, glancing over her shoulder to double-check that she'd closed the door behind her. "No problem, I love being embarrassed by my family and friends in front of a guy I have feelings for," she whispered.

"That isn't what I meant," he replied in a low tone. "And you need to not throw those sort of reminders at me."

"I know, I'm sorry," she muttered, turning her head to look up at him.

Amber eyes locked on hers and he couldn't help but consider . . . how_ perfect_ a moment this would be, were they free in such a manner. "Are you, really?"

Kagome blinked slowly- how could he even been asking her that . . . and _gods_, did he look gorgeous in the mixed play of light from their porch lamp and the bright gibous moon hanging in the sky. "Yes. Why . . . why would you think I'd want to make our situation more difficult?"

He swiveled on a heel so that he was turned entirely toward her and she couldn't help the dazed wonderment as she noticed . . . was his face getting . . . _closer?_

"Perhaps you enjoy making things difficult for me," he murmured.

She'd felt the whisper of his breath over her lips as he'd spoken . . . understood that it wasn't merely that he was leaning down . . . that she was also raising up on her toes, as well. Inching herself upward so slowly that she'd not even been aware of what her body had been doing.

Her eyes drifted closed as she felt the faintest pressure against her mouth, just the lightest brushing of his lips over hers. His hands lifted slowly, cupping the sides of her face gently for only the very briefest moment before they clamped over her shoulders and set her back down on her heels.

Kagome could _feel_ it . . . she could _see_ it, right there behind those damned almost-impassive amber orbs. He wanted to take more than that from her, and because he now recognized that she had the same wants he _had_ to pull away.

Letting his hands drop from her shoulders, he took a backward step away from her before turning toward the steps. "Good night, Higurahi. Get some rest, I will see you when you return to school," he called over his shoulder as he walked away.

Kagome gave a small, slightly shaky nod. "Good night Professor Taisho."

She watched him walk to his car, watched as he climbed in and drove away. For a long time afterward she simply stood there, staring out into the night sky, trying to decide whether or not she should be in a state of self-induced denial over what had just happened. All the while she was dimly aware of her mother opening the door, stepping out to check on her . . . of Souta in the house yelling about where something or other was . . . of the fact that Miroku and Sango were still in the living room.

As Kagome was turning on her heel to head back inside she _felt_ something. A shock of cold tugged through the pit of her stomach as she stood perfectly still, trying to focus on what she was sensing. The sensation of warm breath tickling over the back of her neck forced her to turn so quickly that she stumbled and fell only to immediately begin skittering herself backward toward the door.

_Nothing . . . ._ Taking a deep, stuttering breath, she let her eyes wander, tried to let her _other_ sense reach out. . . . _Nothing. _With trembling fingers, she reached into the basket of salt and scooped out a handful, tossing it out in a broad circle around herself.

"Okay, Kagome," she muttered to herself, "Whatever it was, it's gone now . . . get up. . . . Get your little Japanese butt off of this porch _now_!"

Despite the stern, if short, talking-to she gave herself, it was still a bit longer before Kagome managed to pull herself up. The sudden rash of goosebumps she'd had was long subsided and by the time she put her hand on the knob and opened the door she nearly crashed right into Miroku and Sango.

"Uh . . ." she gave her head a quick shake, trying to banish any telling look that would have Sango saying anything unnecessary in front of Miroku. "Sango . . . I hate to ask, but um, do you think you could stay over tonight?"

Sango's gaze hadn't even needed to leap to Miroku before she decided. "Sure, Kags."

Miroku, however, recognized that there was an entire volume of context to that interaction that had gone unspoken. What he didn't get was how _they_ understood it.

"You two keep reminding me that I need to stop pretending that I understand women."

Kagome forced a light giggle at that before stepping around Sango and back into the house, allowing the girl time to bid her boyfriend farewell in privacy. She held in a sigh and tried to push aside the desire to turn everything that had happened- that was happening still- over in her head. It was no wonder she'd forgotten about her own birthday. How could she be expected to remember anything so normal?

"Okay," Sango's mumbled voice gave her a start and Kagome turned back to face her friend. "You want to tell me what's up."

"Don't get mad, but no . . . I just don't want to be by myself when I'm sleeping . . . okay?"

She could see it in Sango's face- the struggle not to demand to be told, or insist that she already knew what this was about. She just couldn't bring herself to say it. The last thing she needed was Sango fretting over things that had nothing to do with what the problems which faced them already.

"It's _not_ about Lyka. I just need you, is that okay?"

Sango cracked a half-grin and lightly nudged Kagome's shoulder with a loosely curled first. "Of course it is."

A moment like this was what Kagome had been dreading since the flight back from Central America. It _wasn't_ Lyka or anything to do with The Thief. No . . . it had been some random, passing entity just trying to mess with her. Those things that were always around, but no one ever noticed trying to have a little fun at her expense. She wasn't at all certain how she knew, but she was positive- she trusted her gut-instinct- that the intention had been no more than that.

It was proof that her world had become so much bigger than her current predicament. A simple truth, yes . . . but one she was reluctant to burden her friend with until she could face it, herself.


	24. Simplicities

**Chapter Twenty-Four**

Simplicities

She was running, though she had no idea from what or to where, only able to discern the sound and feel of her boots hitting hard dirt and the fear pounding around her brain, shouting at her with every step, with every trembling, frenzied inhalation of breath that if she stopped than that was _it. _There was nothing to tell her where she was, adding to her fright- it was pitch black all around her, compounding her dread with the worry that she would slam face first into something or trip and fall any second.

The worry didn't matter, because all she knew was that she _couldn't_ stop.

It was then . . . as Kagome acknowledged that she was so very afraid . . . as she reminded herself that to stop fearing was to leave herself open and vulnerable that her environment began to brighten, that smells and sounds began to invade her senses. Splashes of green and deep, ruddy brown. The soft, almost leathery feel of wide leaves slapping against her limbs as she moved. Thick, banded roots rose beneath her feet as they struck the ground, not truly hindering her progress, but creating a dull, splintering ache in the soles of her feet from the sheer force of her own weight behind her hurried steps.

The air was damp and heavy with the smell of rich soil and foliage as it rattled in through her nostrils and down into her lungs. Strange chirps and cries echoed through her ears and she became aware, suddenly and sharply that somehow . . . she was running through the jungle.

She did stumble then- cursing herself even as she fell, hitting the ground on her hands and knees, for letting that moment of comprehension distract her. Before she could recover from her spill something was pressing against her back, pushing her downward into the soil. She tried to push back, to stay upraised, but whatever was leaning down on her was stronger than she was.

As she was being forced slowly lower, the damp earth beneath her inching upward to meet her face she feared that she was going to be smothered by the thing behind her. Her arms and legs were straightening, flattening out over the ground against her will, but for the barest moment, she was almost stupid enough to be relieved for just as the tip of her nose brushed the soil she was roughly turned over to face her attacker.

The first thing she registered was wide, endlessly deep black eyes, dark orbs that glittered at her in the most mind-numblingly frightening combination of mischief and malice.

_Like staring into the eyes of a baby-faced serial killer . . . ._

Sooner than Kagome could move Lyka was on her again, sitting on her chest to pin Kagome's arms against her sides with her knees. Kagome opened her mouth to scream, to yell, to curse- hell, even to spit if she could work herself up to it- on her captor, but just as quickly as Lyka had restrained her, the medicine woman was clamping a tiny, soft hand that was impossibly delicate for all the strength she seemed to possess over the mouth of her prey.

"Now, now . . ." Lyka leaned forward, oddly gentle as she smoothed Kagome's bangs out of her face with her free hand as she cooed in the girl's ear, "is that any way to welcome an old friend?"

Blue eyes narrowing lethally, Kagome forced her mouth open and bit down hard on the first knuckle to fall between her lips. Lyka pulled back slowly, quirking a single, sleek dark brow before a frown graced her full lips and she shrugged- only irking Kagome more that she was not affected by this- finally extracting her hand from her captive's mouth.

"This suits me just as well . . . ." Lyka reached a hand behind her back and- seemingly out of thin air- produced the jar Kagome knew on sight to contain the horrid entity's ashes. Smirking, Lyka pulled the earthen-clay cap that had sealed it shut free and tossed it lightly aside. "I need your mouth open for this, anyway."

Instantly Kagome renewed her struggles, clamping her lips tightly together and turning her face away as she tried to throw the other woman off of her, but it was no use, Lyka wouldn't budge. Giving a heavy, world-weary sigh, Lyka gripped a hand around Kagome's jaw, squeezing the hinges with the tips of her thumb and fingers.

As she increased the pressure incrementally, forcing Kagome's lips to part, forcing her clenched teeth to separate, Lyka said in an oddly leisurely tone, "Why must everyone always fight me on what I want? Have you not seen enough of what becomes of those who cross me?"

The moment Kagome's mouth opened fully Lyka began upending the jar, slowly pouring the ashes in, seeming to take great joy in the sound of Kagome choking on it.

* * *

Kagome bolted upright in bed so fast that she tumbled off the side of her mattress and hit the floor, almost too distracted by the clean air she was pulling excitedly into her lungs between coughs to feel the sting of impacting the thinly-carpetted wooden surface. Patting one hand against her chest as she leaned over to rub the hip she'd landed on with the other, she glanced across the room, vaguely surprised that the ruckus she'd just made hadn't brought Sango running over.

She quirked a brow, pushing herself up to stand as the coughing subsided, finally. Sango's bed was empty. This meant that her friend was either in the bathroom . . . or had sneaked off for a late night rendevouz with Miroku.

". . . Figures," Kagome grumbled, throwing herself back down into her own bed and pulling her quilt up over her head, knowing the latter option was far more likely.

Snuggling her head down against her pillow she forced a yawn- thinking that, despite the jarring start her nightmare had given her, she could trick her body back into feeling tired. She tried to sort through her scrambled, dijointed thoughts so that if she _did_ manage to fool her body she would be able to actually fall asleep rather than spending half the night exhaustedly pondering her troubles.

She would have loved to have simply filled Sango's ear with all of this, but Sango was off being _happy_ somewhere that wasn't _here. _A dark, miserable frown graced Kagome's lips at the negative coloring to her thought just then. It was hardly as though she begrudged Sango these moments . . . but she would be lying to herself to deny that she _was_ more than a little envious of the simple _freedom_Sango and Miroku had.

This was her first, official, night back on campus and she was still reeling just a bit from the things that had happened that evening Professor Taisho had been invited to dine at her house. That it would eventually be _her_ house was troubling enough all on its own.

At first it had seemed proposterious. Her mother and Souta were _two_ people, how could Kagome- as _one_ person- possibly need more space than they did? But then in the days to follow it was further explained that this was not an immediate plan, they would wait until Souta was in high school, when her mother would be free to work longer hours, so neither would actually _be home_ very often.

This bit of information, along with certain key mentions her mother had made that orignally went unnoticed by her finally did bring Kagome to understand the intention. That first statement about her being the _oldest_ . . . the reminder that she was a good cook . . . being advised that this was what her grandfather would have wanted . . . . This was ll in the hope and preparation that one day she would fill her family's house with a husband and children . . . . That she'd be the one to make it a _home _again, because right now it was just a shell with people living inside of it . . . .

Just like it had been after her father had died. Years had slipped by before it had felt like someplace any of them could call _home_again.

And her situation with Professor Taisho?

Groaning, Kagome rolled over onto her other side and curled into a ball, pulling the blanket tight all around her. She had not actually seen or spoken to him since that night. It made her wonder, however, if he wasn't finally starting to understand her, because it seemed just as she'd begun to worry that he might be trying to ignore, or forget, what had happened that she'd received the email. It wasn't anything long or complicated, just a single sentence from that email address only she knew was his.

_Hope all is well._

That was it . . . something small- and, yes, completely platonic for the sake of any eyes that might pry- but that was enough. Knowing he'd been thinking of her was all she needed. It was sweetly surprising each time she allowed herself to realize how unbelievably satisfying that simple little knowledge was.

Tomorrow would be the true test- her first day back in class. Her first time in his presence again since that chaste, but so _very_meaningful, kiss. She hoped that being in the company of the _rest_ of the class would help them to stay in their _proper_ and_appropriate_ roles.

The Thief . . . well, she really wasn't at all in control of that situation. He sort of came and went as he pleased, like always. So because there was nothing she could do about that- yet _and _again- she pushed it aside. He'd not appeared since their awkward, if troublingly a little heart-felt, parting in the elevator- another thing she didn't think about if she could help it.

With all of these things out of the way, she turned her attention to her nightmare. She had to dissect it, to dismantle it and understand it so that she could put it, too, out of her mind and get what was left to her of a good night's rest.

That- for all of the mind-numbing fright that had clouded her ability to think _during_ the dream- had actually turned out to be easy to discern. The answer was in those first conscious recognitions, those more primitive thoughts that had screamed inside of her, echoing that ancient, all too human instinct of survival.

It was reminding her that she still had things to fear. These last days may not have been wholly pleasant, but they were, indeed, distracting from such worries. The dream had not been something darker or more sinister than her own imagination- this was not Lyka trying to get in her head again, she understood that.

No, this was her own subconsious reminding her, warning her, that if she let herself forget how dangerous that . . . that _thing _that wore such a pretty face was . . . if she allowed herself to let her guard down then somehow, someway, Lyka would win. It didn't matter how it would happen, either.

All Kagome knew was that it was a turn of events she could never allow to come into being.

* * *

"No," Sango whispered, giggling sleepily as she pulled herself out of Miroku's grasp and started, again, down the corridor.

On the weekends or holidays this place was still buzzing at three AM but most of the student body had one class or another scheduled for just five hours from now which meant they were likely the only people awake on purpose in this building at the moment. She didn't want to be the one responsible for disturbing anyone's sleep. Some people were damned cranky when they were unnecessarily roused from slumber and that was an irritation she didn't feel like having to face.

Reaching out he snatched her hand gently and tugged her back into his arms. "Oh, c'mon . . . just another half hour . . . ."

Dark eyes rolled as she let her head tip to one side, giving him a moment to brush his lips over the side of her throat. "Nope, uh-huh, I'm really tired, okay? You may have later classes, Mr. Finally-In-His-Last-Year-Of-Higher-Education, but I don't. I need to rest."

"At least let me walk you to your door," he murmured, holding onto her hand even as she pulled away from him to begin, again stepping further down the hallway.

"I . . ." Sango's bright, playful expression fell as she looked down the corridor toward her dorm and back at Miroku again. "No, no. I'd like that, but . . . if we wake Kagome and . . . it just wouldn't feel right."

Miroku chuckled quietly, almost humorlessly, at that, having a feeling he understood. "I swear sometimes it sounds like you two are married."

She offered a half-grin, "Funny. I just . . ." Sango lowered her eyes, shrugging, "it just would feel unfair to have her wake up because of _us_ being so cutesy-coupley when . . . when _they _. . . ." She lifted her gaze, stepping back toward him and cupping a hand against his cheek, "I know neither of them would say anything or show it, but . . . I think being back has been really hard on them."

_They, them, their . . . _it was really the only safe way to discuss Kagome and Professor Taisho. Despite their romantic feelings being the simplest- or at least most normal- aspect of their situation it was also the only one Sango could talk about with Miroku. And though it wasn't fully honest, it wasn't fully a fabricated truth, either. When Kagome had once thought being able to talk to the professor about their feelings would make it easier to avoid, she now understood how wrong that was, how much more difficult that solid knowledge was going to make it for them to be around one another without showing some sign.

Nodding thoughtfully, he slid his fingers up over hers and pulled them slowly away as he released the hold he'd had on her other hand. "I get it. And I guess you're right. If we were in their shoes, I'd probably hate the whole civilized world for it."

"Then I'll see you tomorrow."

Miroku nodded again, watching as she spun on a heel and started down the corridor. Only after she'd reached her door, stepped inside and closed it behind her did he retreat into the stairwell to begin heading to the mens' dormotories.

Sango gave her eyes a moment to adjust to the darkness of the room after the comparatively harsh, over-head illumination of the hallway lighting. She was about to begin changing- as quietly as she could manage- into her sleep wear, but instead crept slowly across the room. When she was close enough, she could clearly see a bundle of what was _probably_ Kagome, her quilt tucked around her like some fluffy, polyester-cotton-blend cocoon.

Sango reached over and gently tugged down the quilt, just enough to see the friend's face. Kagome was sleeping soundly, looking more peaceful than Sango could remember seeing in a while. Smiling to herself, she delicately, affectionately tousled the sleeping girl's hair and returned to the task of changing into her pajamas.

* * *

"Oh, hell . . ." Kagome grumbled, rifling through her backpack.

Sango watched Kagome's near-frantic activitiy with a slight frown. "What's the matter?"

Wide blue eyes lifted from the contents of her bag to meet her friend's gaze. "I can't find my wallet!"

"What? Oh, crap! Okay, where's the last place you _remember_ having it?"

"Um . . ." Kagome tried to mentally back-track . . . she remembered Sango handing her a note in archeology . . . wanting to get a bite off campus after classes were done for the day . . . she'd taken out her wallet to check how much cash she had on hand . . ._Oh, hell . . . . _"Professor Taisho's class?"

"You better hope someone _honest _found it and turned it in! Look, I'll wait for you by the office, if it's not there, call me and I'll check the lost and found for you- saves time and if I don't hear from you I'll just meet you over at the diner."

"Okay," Kagome nodded and rushed off, but it was not until she'd made it halfway toward her destination that she realized something.

Sango had deliberately not volunteered to go with her. She understood why- this was likely to be one of the few times she'd have to speak to Professor Taisho away from other people. They might not say anything at all, but at least the opporunity would be present and Sango didn't want to get in the way of that.

Kagome stopped in front of the door, forcing herself not to reflexively smooth her hands over her clothes; if anyone passed by just now she didn't need it to look like she was so overly concerned with her appearance when she was stepping into a classroom after daytime courses had finished. At least there was the minor comfort that she was dressed nicely today. Oddly- or perhaps it wasn't odd at all- she'd become more attentive to her appearance in these last few weeks. Clad in a red velvet button-down, black leggings and a pair of black hiking boots she'd borrowed from Sango that laced up to the knee, she knew she looked- at the very least- _nice._

After what seemed like forever, she at last knocked on the door.

"Enter."

Nodding to herself, she opened the door and poked her head in before stepping inside and closing it behind her. She still wasn't certain _anything_ would be said, but she was getting used to operating on a _just in case _basis. The professor had his back to the door, leaning over his desk as he seemed to angrily be scratching out and correcting something laid out before him.

"Professor?"

Instantly the sound of his pen moving against the page ceased. "Higurashi . . ." he managed after a moment, setting the pen down and walking around his desk. "I was about to head to the office to drop this off if you or Ryoushi hadn't come to claim it," opening a drawer, he extracted her wallet with two fingers and held it up for her to see. "You're lucky Miroku was the one who spotted it. This may not be kind to say, but I don't believe most of the student body to be terribly trust-worthy."

She couldn't help smirking as she reached out to take it from him, only to pause as the action caused the very tips of her fingers to brush over his. A silent moment passed as they simply looked at one another before he relinquished his hold and let his hand drop to his side.

"Is that all, Higurashi?" Professor Taisho muttered as he busied himself with the papers on his desk once more.

Kagome nodded stiffly as she stuffed her wallet into her bag, somewhat reluctant to simply leave_,_ but knowing that she _had_ to go. As she turned to face the door, she found herself halting again . . . found herself giving a contrary reply aloud.

"You probably don't remember," she mumbled, mindful of where they were, afraid that if she spoke any louder she would be overheard, "but on the site . . . we had a lot of little moments like that one just now. I know it was probably before . . . before you even thought anything of me, but . . . those moments meant a lot to me, I just . . . I just needed to tell you that."

It was silent and she couldn't stop herself from glancing over her shoulder at him. Those beautiful amber eyes had drifted closed, his hands braced against the desktop as he lowered himself slowly into his chair. Sitting back, he propped his elbows up on the armrests and lifted one hand, lightly touching his fingers to his forehead.

"Higurashi . . ." for a few heartwrenching seconds it seemed like that was all he would say, causing her to fear that he was preparing to reprimand her for mentioning such a thing in the place were those incidents were the most dangerous for them. "I remember_everything_ that happens when I'm around you."

He opened his eyes then and Kagome could do nothing more than smile at him. To say anything further . . . to make any move toward him would be inviting trouble, and they both were aware of that. Giving another small nod, she turned away and walked to the door. It was a moment before she could grasp the knob, before she could force herself to willingly step out of his presence.

And then a bolt of ice shot down her spine.

"Lock the door, little priestess."

Forcing a gulp down her throat, Kagome looked over her shoulder to see Nah Rah Ku seated behind Professor Taisho's desk. He met her gaze, smirking wickedly as he pulled the black elastic band from his hair, letting the long pale strands fall loosely around his shoulders.

"And do be so kind and prudent as to close the . . . 'shades'. I do not think you would want anyone to witness this."

Rolling her eyes-_ how_ did he stay conscious of these sorts of moments?- she did as she was told, careful to peek out first and be certain no one was around to find this suspicious. Turning on her heel, she pressed her back against the door and just looked at him for a long, silent while.

"For someone who seems to know how bad it is to appear _here_ for an offering, you certainly don't seem to mind the potential dangers."

"Mmm, perhaps that . . . 'taboo' makes the act that much more appealing." He crooked a clawed finger at her.

She hated to admit it, but even as she did something so simple as stepping closer to him, she could already feel her body warming . . . could feel that pleasant tingling of anticipation in her limbs. Being in his presence, knowing what was about to happen caused her body to respond almost violently, her legs trembling beneath her on weak knees as she approached the desk, her backpack falling to the floor more a virtue of her fingers losing their ability to grip than of purposefully releasing her hold.

He scooted his chair back and looked up at her as he patted his lap. Biting deep into her lower lip for a moment, Kagome stuttered, "B-b-but . . . what if I make noise, what if we're overheard?"

Frowning at being delayed- she always seemed _so_ insistent on putting off the inevitable- he reached out a hand, snatching her wrist before she could blink and yanking her closer. "I will keep you silent," he assured her, "and you, indeed, fed me well last time, so now I will take from you a morsel."

He clamped his hands over her hips and turned her around before pulling her backward into his lap. That she never expected this to happen _here_ had Kagome in a bit of a daze . . . a hazy sort of disbelief that coated what was happening as one of his hands slid upward into her shirt, immediately running the tips of his claws over her one of her nipples through the fine, satin sheen of her bra. Only when she trembled at this, when her mouth fell open in a quick, silent gasp, did he slip his other hand between her legs, moving one and then the other so that she was straddling his lap.

Still in that bit of fog- and never quite certain what to do with her hands in these instances- Kagome reached back, linking her hands behind his neck. She allowed it, moving with him as he nudged her face with his own to bring his mouth to the side of her throat. It almost distracted her from the moment when she felt his fingers stroking between her thighs . . . _through _her leggings. When had she become so used to feeling his skin against hers that this alteration would actually trouble her?

"What are you doing?" she mumbled, clamping her lips shut to stifle a moan as he sank his teeth into the soft skin just below her ear.

"Mmm," he rubbed his hand harder against her, delighting in the tremor it sent through her, "I am using friction to my advantage. You see, this" he paused intentionally, then, working the tip of a finger directly over where he knew that precious, throbbing little bead of flesh to be, instantly removing the hand that had been beneath her blouse to cover her mouth, muffling what sound was escaping her, "is a very delicate thing, indeed and when it is bared to me . . . it limits how much your body can handle."

Kagome nodded, whimpering behind his hand as her pelvis jerked, moving her against his hand of its own volition.

"No . . . no, little priestess, hold still," he warned, pausing in his ministrations.

Uncertain of what this was all about- she could have sworn he liked it when she moved on her own- she did as she was told, holding her body still, her hips rolled back so that she was pressed firmly against his fingers.

"Good girl. Now, with this garment protecting you, I can do this," he rubbed the entire length of his hand, from the tip of his fingers to the heel of his palm, roughly over her, back and for just once, allowing her to comprehend.

Again she nodded to let him know she understood and unable to stop the moan that tore out of her- making her oddly grateful for his hand over her mouth- as he began stroking the length of his hand over her again and again. She tried to hold still, finding she had to curl her ankles around his to keep from moving. With every motion of his hand over her he went just a little faster, worked against her flesh just a little harder.

He returned to sucking and nibbling at her throat as she felt the sweet, surprising shock of him growing hard beneath her. A corner of her mind puzzled over that even as the rest of her body was caught up in the feel of his palm driving against her. Only twice had he come when he took her offering and yet she was positive he'd gotten hard _every_ time . . . did it somehow subside on its own when he fed?

Her head fell back and she had to move then, rolling her hips forward and arching her back as her body began to go taut. She was dimly aware of The Thief's low, breathy chuckling against her neck as he switched the rhythm of his strokes, working her flesh now in a quick, jerking motions. It forced Kagome to moan behind his hand once more as the almost-bizarre sensation of his fingers shaking against her brought the orgasm crashing through her.

She gripped trembling fingers into his hair, lifting herself off of his lap to press herself more tightly against the vibrations his fingers were creating. "Very good, little priestess," he murmured in her ear as she continued pushing against his hand, "come harder, I know you can."

Kagome didn't think that was possible, but suddenly she was distinctly, sharply aware of every second of his fingers trembling motions over her, was aware of how hard and warm he was beneath her. She had no choice, biting down on one of his fingers to keep from crying out as the delicious warmth continued dancing through her when, she knew by now, this was the moment it should have begun to ebb.

"Such a wonderful pet you are," he said quietly when, at last, it began to wash out of her and she settled back into his lap, shuddering violently as he again rubbed the length of his hand over her, catering to the blissful aftershocks as they rocked through her.

When he finally extracted his hands from her, she simply lay there against him for a long while, catching her breath. Before she could even consider what he'd just called her, Kagome's brain- seeming to be working at last- was tripping over something else. She snatched up his hand, examining the finger she'd bitten. It was a relief that she'd not broken skin, but the area was still marred, red and showing the indentation marks of what were clearly human teeth.

"I'm not your pet," she muttered, not looking up from her inspection.

"You say this as though it is a bad thing for me to consider you such."

"It's not a 'bad thing', so much as it's sort of demeaning . . . and if you wanted to get technical about it, it's more like you're my pet since I'm the one feeding you."

"Amusing how 'technically' does not make it valid."

Blue eyes rolled, but Kagome kept the comment on the tip of her tongue about how annoying he could be _right_ where it was. "Can you . . . not let him come back until this goes away?"

Tipping his head, he peered over her shoulder, looking down at his large hand clasped in her smaller ones. No, no, not his hand . . . Taisho Sesshomaru's hand. He did not think on the discussion she had with this Sesshomaru . . . he could not understand why, but he did not like that they had staked unspoken claims on one another.

This served _his_ purpose, did it not? The more deeply she felt for this Sesshomaru, the more reason she had to keep _him_ satisfied. But . . . something in his planning had gone terribly wrong and he simply could not grasp what that was.

But what Nah Rah Ku did understand was that he did _not_ like this feeling. "As you wish," he said levelly after a long moment before all but shoving her out of his lap.

Kagome quirked a brow, not unaffected by the sudden darkening of his mood. It was like a rabbit sensing that a starved wolf had gotten close enough to catch its scent. She took the cue as it was intended, snatching her bag up from the floor and stumbling across the room to the door. As soon as her fingers turned the lock, however, she stilled . . . feeling the impression of anger fade. Glancing over her shoulder toward the desk she saw him scooping his hair back. She watched as he folded him arms over the desk- it was obvious he was going to make the professor think he'd fallen asleep in the middle of his work just after Kagome had left the room. The whole while he refused to raise his gaze to look at her, though she could tell he felt her eyes on him.

Shaking her head, she smoothed her hands over her clothing and quickly combed her fingers through her hair before at last opening the door and stepping out into the corridor. All the way to the exit . . . every step that took her off of campus and toward the diner she refused to think about that last moment.

She would not acknowledge that what she'd felt from the demon in the absence of that dark, savage anger . . . had been sadness.

As she reached the diner, through the window she could see Sango already at a table, already waving her to come in. Kagome caught sight of her own reflection then and nodded briefly to herself as she mumbled, "He's _just_ a monster, Kagome . . . he can't feel sadness and even if he _could_, it wouldn't matter."

She ignored that speaking those words had somehow left her feeling just a little bit hollow.


	25. Blindsided

**Chapter Twenty-Five**

Blindsided

Kagome checked the reference number again as she swept her fingers along the wide, dusty spines of so many books that hadn't been opened in gods only knew how long. Everyone on campus knew that Professor Tamaki was a hardass and a bit of a slave driver . . . but demanding a research paper for which they weren't allowed to utilize the internet? That was simply _madness!_

This was very frustrating. She felt that she should know this place like the back of her hand after spending her freshman year volunteering as a clerk's assistant in the university library. Those volumes should be _right _here!

Crumpling the paper in her hand as her fingers curled into a fist, she turned and began- quietly, which wasn't nearly as satisfying- stomping her way to the reference desk, repressing the urge to scream bloody murder with every step. Again days had slipped by since her encounter with The Thief, but as had happened after the times before, she'd put it out of her mind, acting nearly as though it hadn't happened. It wasn't that she had to force the memories aside and pretend everything was alright, that was something she had to do to survive this without losing her mind- that was a fact she'd come upon and accepted early on- it was that by now this sort of deliberate ignorance had become common place for her.

So second nature that she no longer had to think about the process as it happened, only able to recall in a distant hindsight that it was already done.

Sighing heavily, she set the scrap of paper on the desk and smoothed it out with the tips of her fingers. "Hana," she whispered to the clerk, waiting for the woman's pale brown eyes to lift from whatever was on the screen before her. "I am going to start tearing this place apart if you can't tell me where these are."

Hana gave a surprised chuckle, though she quickly enough hushed herself and picked up the paper. "Nice to see you, too. Good thing you caught me, I'm about to run over to administration. Okay, what are we looking at? Ooooooh," she laughed again, sucking her teeth as she shook her head, "Tamaki's at it again, huh?"

"So it's not just my class he hates, but everyone that attends college?"

Hana waved dismissively as she brought up the catalog listing on the computer to search for the numbers. "I know it seems that way, but it's technology he hates. Very old school kind of guy, doesn't want the students to rely so heavily on 'easy answers' so he springs at least one non-internet paper on _every _class."

The clerk's face fell a bit, prompting Kagome to frown. "I don't like that look."

Sighing, Hana handed Kagome back the slip of paper and shook her head once more. "We had to pull some of the least frequently used books to make room for newer inventory."

Letting her head fall back, Kagome rolled her eyes. "Don't tell me . . . ."

"Storage room . . . you could wait 'til I get back."

Kagome set her head level to meet Hana's gaze. "Or you could let me go get them and put the key back before anyone notices."

Hana turned quirkly, skirting a glance around their immediate area. "Fine, but only 'cause you know this place better than most of my current assistants."

Kagome hid a triumphant grin as Hana pulled a massive ring of keys from her desk drawer and carefully selected one before working it free from the rest and holding it out. "When you return it, if I'm not back yet, just slip it under the mouse pad."

"You got it, boss-lady," Kagome said quietly as she took the key.

"I'm going to pretend I don't miss being called that," Hana replied as the girl turned on her heel and darted off.

She jogged out of the main doors and through the corridor toward the basement staircase, in an odd way relishing that the storage area wouldn't seem nearly as spooky as it used to for her- not now that she understood what it meant to _really_ and _truly_ find something spooky. _Although . . . . _Halting in midstep, she glanced over her shoulder before slowly sweeping her gaze around in a careful, broad circle, hardly surprised when she didn't see anyone.

If this place should no longer spook her than why did it feel like someone was watching her? Closing her eyes she spared a moment to take a deep breath and focus, centering herself. When she felt that deep, rippling calm within she began to push outward, searching for anything that shouldn't be only to find that whatever had caused the sensation was either already gone, or had just been a figment of her imagination.

Opening her eyes again she gave herself a shake before entering the basement stairwell and proceeding downward. This whole mess had her turned inside out, though she thought she should be a little proud of herself for taking the time to _see_ if it was actually something rather than simply brushing it aside as she once would have. She didn't bother to think on how much trouble she might have saved herself had she been so cautious before now.

Determinedly putting it out of her mind now that it had proven to be nothing, she tucked her hair behind her ears and fit the key into the lock so quick she nearly jammed it, turning it as fast as the mechanism would allow and all but throwing the door open. It may have been a _nothing _that she'd _put out of her mind_, but she still wanted to spend as little time in any place capable of making her imagination run away with her as was humanly possible.

Flicking on the light switch she instantly frowned, gaping up at the shelves. "Crap," the word hissed out in a breath, "I forgot how big this place was."

Shaking her head at herself she jumped right into her search, cursing the assistants that had come and gone since she'd left the position. There was no semblance of order to the stacks of books piled haphazardly about the place.

Raising her gaze, she scanned the walls, looking for -what she knew to be- the lone window and stepped over to stand beneath it as she pulled her cellphone from her pocket, moving it about until she got a signal. _Go without me, going to take longer than I thought._Satisfied the message said what it needed to without being considered _too long_ she hit send, knowing Sango and Miroku were waiting for her t join them before heading to her and Sango's usual study-spot coffee place.o

As she slipped the phone back into her pocket she heard it chime back to her, but ignored it, knowing what the reply would be. She didn't feel like reading some quick, mangled text lecturing her about how much she need to relax once in a while. It seemed like every time she heeded that sort of advice something new and _spectacularly_ horrible happened.

After a few moments of mind-numbing quiet, she heard someone enter the room and glanced over her shoulder, immediately having the presence of mind to assure herself that it _wasn't _Nah Rah Ku. She vaguely recognized the man with the long, dark hair standing in the door way, looking just a little mystified.

"Oh, hey," she said politely, returning to her search, "you're Ookami Kouga, right? Ayame's boyfriend."

" . . . Ookami Kouga, yes," he said in a tone that sounded cautionary, "Ayame's _ex-_ boyfriend."

Kagome rolled her eyes, but kept any comments to herself- it wasn't her place to judge, but honestly Kouga and Ayame were so off-again, on-again what was the big deal with even using that prefix? Male pride or something, she figured. If she asked, he'd probably swear that it was him that broke it off everytime, too, so he wouldn't looked like that one who'd been dumped. She cast another quick glance back at him. Yup, he sure looked like the proud type.

He also looked . . . odd. Kagome couldn't quite put her finger on just how- after all, she barely knew him, but something just didn't look right. _There you go again, Kagome!_ Scolding herself, she put that aside.

"Did you need a book? Um . . . everything's a mess, but I'm pretty good with category reference numbers, if you tell me what you want I can probably find it for you."

"No, I do not require any book."

Kagome's brow furrowed- if he didn't need a book, than what on earth was he doing in the library storage room? And why was he speaking that way?

"Um, okay, then what are you doing . . . ."

Spinning on her heel, she watched in disbelief as he proceeded to close the door and lock it, never once taking his eyes off of her. "Do you recall the last words I spoke to you?"

Her eyebrows shot up into her bangs and she felt herself shrinking back against the shelving behind her as he began taking careful, measured steps across the room toward her. "We've barely even said 'hi' in passing, what are you talking about?"

The corners of his mouth quirked upward in a small, utterly humorless grin as he lowered his gaze from hers, looking into the palm of his own hand as though he'd never seen it before as he curled his hand into a fist and straightened the fingers again a few times. This caused Kagome to force a small gulp down her throat- it was like he was testing his own muscles.

"As I recall, I was quite rudely interrupted. You had asked me a question and I was answering and then you were suddenly gone."

"I _really_ don't understand-"

Kagome yelped, finding him in front of her more quickly than she could duck away, though this was not like when The Thief moved. The one thing she new for certain about Kouga was that he was a well-trained athlete, capable of moving with an astounding grace and speed.

"I was saying 'you have not earned such confidences from me,' I was saying that _You_ are merely another who has come between us."

Only now did she notice what was so very wrong about Kouga's face. Those pale eyes of his had darkened . . . echoing a bizzare blue-black shade. Instantly her mind snapped back to that meditation over the mountaintop, to that moment she'd been face to face with _Lyka._

She understood now . . . Lyka had taken over someone compartively weak-minded, but who could probably kill her with his bare hands. Her head turned with small, shaky motions to see Kouga's arms lifting, to watch his hands brace on either side of her against the shelf.

"Dammit, Lyka!" Kagome was _so_ sick of being scared, so angry with this . . . thing for taking pleasure from her fears. "If you're going to, I don't know, break my neck or something, just get it the hell over with already, okay, 'cause I cannot deal with your _bullshit_anymore!"

"You are so very fiesty," Kouga lifted one hand, brushing her hair away from her throat and gently slipping his fingers around the back of her neck, "I am sometimes surprised that we did not make better friends."

"Maybe it's because you disgust me."

Again that small, humorless grin quirked as the tip of his thumb began gently stroking the delicate skin below her ear. "If that is how you perceive me than you will appreciate what I am about to do. I was going to choose your friend Sango and kill you in your sleep, but then I thought that was too quiet and simple . . ." Kouga's broad shoulders shrugged, "there would be no after affects, no misery for you to suffer through afterward."

He . . . she . . . _whatever_ wasn't planning on killing her? Kagome found herself instantly dreading the implication of Lyka taking over a _male _body. Something in her eyes must have given away her thoughts because a deep chuckle rumbled up from the center of his chest.

Leaning down, he brought his lips to her ear and hissed in a lethal-sounding whisper. "I have wondered if his fascination with you has to do with your innocence. I believe if I _sully_ you, he will no longer want you." Suddenly his fingers gripped into her hair, yanking her head back, "I will strip that innocence from you, Kagome."

Kagome tried to pull free from him, but it was no use, Kouga was a lot stronger than she was. Though her attempt had only caused another chuckle to escape him, the reminder of his strength brought back to her the memory of how he'd clenched his fist, testing the muscles in his arm.

_Lyka's not used to a male body . . . ._

"Sorry, Kouga," she muttered, hoping for his sake he wouldn't remember _any _of this later.

Hoping to cause a split-second's distraction, she spit at his face. Frowning darkly he reached up with his free hand to wipe it away and Kagome latched her hands onto his shoulders, giving herself leverage as she brought her knee crashing upward into his groin.

The fingers gripping her hair loosened immediately as he cupped his hands over the point of impact and fell to his knees. She had to force herself not to get distracted with patting herself on the back. Looking quickly around, she pulled up the heaviest book that was within reach and brought it down on the top of his head with all of her strength.

He was still up, those strange eyes staring daggers at her in the most frightening mix of pain and anger as he bellowed something incoherent at her, but Kagome ignored it, bashing him over the head until he finally sank to the ground. Despite this, she held the book at the ready- not letting the tremble she could feel starting from deep within her free until she was certain- pushing at his shoulder with the toes of her boot.

When he didn't budge, she let her make-shift weapon fall to the floor, her entire body giving into a violent shudder as she slid down the shelves to land on her butt. She only gave herself a moment before shifting to dig her cell out of her pocket and calling Myoga- oddly, a number she had hoped she'd never have to use.

"What?" A flood of relief washed through her at the sound of the old man's squaky voice.

"It's Kagome . . . I got him . . . her- Lyka, I have Lyka _here_."

". . . You said you had 'him'."

"She possessed a guy. . . I had to bash him over the head with something."

"Good, good!" he said brightly- much to Kagome's surprise, "you need to keep him . . . 'them' subdued and get him over to me immediately."

"Seriously?"

"You have an odd idea of the appropriate time for jokes, Kagome."

"Sorry, sorry."

"Keeping her host unconscious renders her _unconscious_ as well, in essence trapping her there. I don't care how you do it, but you keep him knocked out and get him over here."

Just like that the little old man was slamming the phone down. She slowly pushed herself up slowly to stand, making sure her still-trembling legs would support her weight before going to the supply cabinet that was crammed into a corner of the room. After some searching she came up with a bundle of twine and a pair of scissors and ran to the window, dialing Sango and putting it on speaker. Setting it down on the floor Kagome listened to be certain it was ringing before she ran back and began the very bizarre task of binding Kouga's wrists behind his back.

"Hello?"

"Sango," she all but shouted toward the phone, looping the twine several more times than was possibly needed, but she wasn't taking any chances after what had just happened. "I need your help! And . . . " she paused for a moment, considering the likelihood of Sango and her being able to sneak the body of a full grown man out of the university basement and over to Myoga's house.

They were going to need some muscle . . . . "Bring Miroku, too . . . he's probably going to think we're both nuts, but you need to tell him the _truth_."

"Wait, what?"

Kagome was distracted suddenly with Kouga stirring and immediately picked up the closest book and slapped him over the head with it. "Look, Sans, I don't have a whole lot of time to explain," she yelled, dropping the book and setting to binding his ankles.

"What the hell is going on over there? Where are you?"

"Library store room, basement level- just get here, please!"

"Okay!"

Then the room was silent again and Kagome finished tying him up. Unsure of what to do, and not wanting to let him out of her sight, she sat herself delicately on his back, cradling a book in her arms, just in case, as she waited patiently for Sango, and what she expected would be a _very _bewildered Miroku.


	26. Time and Place

**Chapter Twenty-Six**

Time and Place

For a long, painfully silent moment, Kagome and Sango could only cautiously watch Miroku. He'd entered the store room with Sango- after a skiddish, still shaky and incredibly wary Kagome had scrambled off of poor Kouga to unlock the door for them, only to resume her original position, complete with tense, white-knuckled book-holding- and had simply stood in the doorway, staring mute and wide-eyed from Sango, to Kagome . . . and then reluctantly to the battered man the petite woman was _sitting _on and back again as said petite woman explained what had transpired.

It seemed he was _trying _to think of something to say, but could not quite find words to do his reaction to this markedly unusual situation justice. Taking a few steps into the room, finally, he made a brief gesture of stabbing his finger at the air, pointing from Sango to Kagome and then Kouga before clenching both hands into fists and then wringing his fingers out once, twice . . . .

He nodded slowly, uncertainly a few times, folding his arms across his chest as he pulled his lips into a thin line. Around his shoulder, Kagome glanced at Sango, who could only answer with a bewildered look and a quick shrug.

"HOLY FUCK-NUTS OVER A BARREL!"

The girls both gave a start at the unexpected outburst, to say nothing of the unusual collection of words.

Miroku clamped his hands over the sides of his head as he let his gaze circle the room's other occupants. "What the _hell_ have you two gotten me into? And you," he pointed a shaky finger at Kagome, "how did you . . . I mean . . . he's damn near twice your size!"

Kagome shrugged, brandishing the book she was holding at him. "Never underestimate the element of surprise. What was I supposed to do? He was going to_ rape_ me- or are we forgetting that all because _I _managed to kick a man's ass."

Miroku shook his head, frowning- seeming to slowly be regaining his usual demeanor of mellow coolness. "I know Kouga, he can be a dick sometimes, but he's mostly a good guy, he'd never . . . ." His voice trailed off as he turned toward the throat clearing sounds Sango was making.

"Baby," she murmured, affecting a reasonable tone, "I know you were still in shock when Kagome was telling us the first time around what had happened, but try to think back." She pointed down at Kouga and mouthed the word _Lyka._

Pressing the tips of his fingers to his forehead for a long moment he responded, "Right, right- crazy ghost bitch . . . okay."

Kagome pushed herself up to stand once more, dropping her book loudly on the floor. "Okay . . . so we need to get him over to Myoga's, like _now_, but we need to _not_ be stupid about it. Sango, you know the address, so . . . go get Miroku's car," the poor guy was nodding numbly as he obediently fished his keys from his pocket and held them out for his girlfriend to snag.

"Miroku, you're going to stay here with . . ." she made a vague waving motion in Kouga's direction, "_them_. I have to run up and return this key before Hana starts thinking she has reason to come down here. Um . . . okay, Sango, then I'm going to call you and you pull around to rear parking area and then . . . I'll come back down and play look-out while muscles smuggles Kouga out to the car."

". . . Muscles . . . ?" Miroku echoed with an indignant sniffle. Only a moment passed before he gave himself a once-over and shrugged, "I suppose it's nice to be appreciated."

Sango rolled her eyes as Kagome shook her head, both girls immediately turning on their heels nearly in unison and heading out of the door. Drawing in a heavy sigh, he took a backward step to lean back against the shelves and folded his arms across his chest as he waited for Kagome to return. He wondered briefly if this wasn't all some bizarre dream he would wake up from the moment he let himself accept that this insanity was _real_. He'd been completely certain that the girls had been pulling some sort of prank on him . . . until he saw Kagome perched atop a rumbled, waylayed human being that had eight inches of height and over fifty pounds of weight on her.

Lowering his gaze to rest on Kouga for a long time, he could only shake his head. "You poor bastard . . . ."

* * *

Kagome had darted in, placed the key beneath the mouse pad as instructed and was dashing out of the library again when she collided with someone . . . hard enough to send her tumbling backward to land on her bottom. Before she could work up a shout, or even gain her bearings, a pair of strong hands had latched gently around her upper arms to hoist her to her feet.

She didn't need to look up, didn't need to register the familiar mode of dress, didn't need to brush her gaze over the golden-olive hands that clasped her arms to know who it was. . . . Somehow she could just _feel_ that it was Professor Taisho Sesshomaru.

"I'm sorry, Higurashi, I didn't see you. Are you alright?"

Oddly, she was almost afraid to raise her eyes to meet his. Not because she didn't wish to look at him- she was beginning to realize she _loved_ to look at him- but that she felt if she did, she wouldn't be able to look away . . . that she'd be too obvious, that being this close to him would make her do something that would be horribly telling to anyone that might see them. . . . Just in case his hands not yet having fallen from her arms wasn't enough.

"I'm . . . I'm okay, professor," finally lifting her gaze she pointedly roved it around the area, hoping to hint silently to him as she shrugged lightly. "Thank you for helping me up."

Seeming to understand, he relenquished his hold on her, though the way he did it- his palms and the tips of his fingers skimming slowly down the length of her arms until hers hands slid out of his, breaking their physical contact- did not go unnoticed by her. As he stepped around her to proceed down the corridor the simple gesture left her feeling a pleasant, buzzing mix of butterflies in the stomach and heart-warmed blissfulness.

"You're welcome, Higurashi," the professor called over his shoulder, just loud enough for her to hear before he rounded a bend in the hallway and was gone from sight.

Despite her awareness of where they were- helped along by the fact that daytime classes were over, so the corridors weren't incredibly populated- Kagome felt nearly trapped in place for a long moment, simply staring after him. That little voice in her head, that was usually so irritating and nagging, was sighing pleasantly over the notice that even his walk was sexy . . . .

This was the moment she brought a hand up, slapping herself soundly on the cheek. Never mind the place, this was no _time_ to get herself tripped up by googly-eyed appreciation of her archeology professor. She was ignoring that by now he was much more to her than _just _her teacher, but this was neither the _time_ nor the _place _for mulling over such thoughts.

Shaking her head, she dug her cell phone out of her pocket, dialing up Sango as she jogged back to the basement door.


	27. Exchanging Problems

**Chapter Twenty-Seven**

Exchanging Problems

"Wh . . . what are you doing?" Kagome asked stammeringly as she dashed back into the room to find Miroku holding a cloth over Kouga's mouth.

He glanced up from what appeared to be a silent ten-count and then pulled the cloth away, withdrawing a small baggie from the pocket of his jeans and sealing the cloth in it. "Well, he looks pretty banged up, so I was pretty certain he wouldn't be stiring anytime soon and I started to think maybe a few more bashes over the head might be a _bad_ thing- guys like Kouga need all the brainpower they've got. And anyway, you were gone a while longer than I thought you'd be. I ran up to the chem lab real quick and put something together. Only took a few seconds to make the proper mixture, really. Unfortunately, when I got back he _was _starting to stir."

Kagome thought her knees were going to go out from under her as she put a hand to her forehead and closed her eyes tightly. "_Please _tell me that you actually know what you're doing and didn't just say . . . accidentally poison him."

Sure, that would probably solve the Lyka issue, but then it would create a whole new _Whoops, we accidentally _murdered _an otherwise innocent man _problem.

He waved a dismissive hand as he bent down and- in a rather impressive display of strength and limberness- pulled Kouga up and hoisted the man over his shoulder. "I used to do this stuff all the time . . . some of the jocks would come to me to whip up a . . . . Well, let's just call it a 'draught' for the purpose of pranking their buddies- ya know, something that would put them out for a bit, but not cause anything more lasting than a bit of groggyness or a hang-over feeling."

She opened her eyes, shifting her weight as she shook her hands out, letting feeling flow back into her limbs. "Oh . . . oh, good- I_was_ actually worrying about how I'd keep him out without giving him brain damage."

Given the constantly changing circumstances whirling around her and the numerous shocks to her system that she seemed to receive on a daily basis, Kagome thought she was handling her situation _spectacularly_ well.

Mirokua only nodded, walking to the door with his rather troublesome parcel and giving her a meaningful look as he nudged his chin toward the corridor.

"Huh? Oh, right . . . I'm . . . I'm the look-out, _my_ plan and all that." She darted down the hall to the stairwell and paused, listening for a long moment before realizing she had a better tool at her disposal.

Closing her eyes for a second, she reached out, searching for anyone- or any_thing-_ other than herself, Miroku and the unconscious Kouga, for any sources of _living_ energy besides themselves in their immediate vicinity. After a moment, nothing came to her and she opened her eyes, breathing a small sigh of relief and waving Miroku to her.

He trudged over, muttering quietly as he reached her, "What took you so long, anyway?"

She gave a short, nervous giggle, casting a skittering glance at him over her shoulder. "I ran into Professor Taisho . . ." she began climbing the stairs carefully, not bothering to look back as she ventured, ". . . . and why are we whispering?"

Miroku inched up the steps behind her, quirking a brow. "Probably because the process of _kidnapping_ someone brings with it the 'talk-low' vibe?"

"Ah."

"Okay, so what is the _real _deal with you and him, anyway? I wasn't clear on that part- was that just a convenient cover story for this whole possession thing?"

As he joined her on the small landing before the exit to the first floor corridor Kagome found herself vaguely impressed that he could carry on his end of the conversation as though he didn't have a full grown human being slung over his shoulder. "Not entirely- there's nothing physical going on between the professor and me, but," she gave a little smile that was as bright as it was pained, "we _are_ in love and dealing with the fact that we can't do anything about it."

". . . I'm sorry," he murmured in a sincere tone, "that's got to be rough."

She cracked open the door and peeked out carefully- mindful enough to not simply leave their security to a sixth sense that she was still adjusting to- before turning her head to glance briefly at him. "Not really in the mood to talk about this _now."_

Miroku scowled inwardly at himself for not being more sensitive to her feelings. She had to be reminded every day that she sat in Professor Taisho's classroom about her situation, the last thing anyone would need would be to get forced to remember it when the object of their affection _wasn't_ around. And having to give herself to that thing that was possessing the professor even though she couldn't share herself in such a way with Professor Taisho himself? That _had_ to be seriously, mind-fuck frustrating.

Kagome crept out of the door and inched her way carefully to the rear exit of the school . . . only to find a security guard there . . . they certainly picked lousy times to be paying attention. Frowning, she ducked back to the basement doorway and popped her head into the stairwell.

"I'm going to distract the security guard- he's the only person out that way, so give me . . ." she rolled her eyes upward, moving her lips as she counted silently to herself, clearly having some half-assed plan in the works, "about two minutes , then start moving."

"You're sure?" Miroku had the feeling that as intelligent as she was, one day her quick-thinking was going to get them all in trouble . . . though today it would just be _him_, but then, he supposed, such was his luck.

She nodded very briefly. "Just . . . trust me, please?"

He rolled his eyes- if he didn't have such a weakness for pretty faces he might not be in this mess- and gave a nod of his own. "Alright, go- _now_."

Letting the door close, Kagome ran as fast as her legs could carry her around to the front entrance of the school. She wasn't as winded as she'd like to be for what she was about to say to be affective by the time she exited and started circling her way around the building. Pausing just at the corner that would bring her into the guard's line of sight, she held her breath. Giving herself a thirty-count- she'd never been able to hold air in her lungs for very long- she only let herself finally inhale when her chest felt like it was about to burst, then, breathing heavily, she gave herself a wide berth so that it would look as though she was running over from the quad.

As soon as her feet hit the grass she took off, making a good show of looking both relieved and surprised as she pretended to only now notice the guard. "Oh, thank the gods," she semi-shouted breathlessly as she turned and headed over to him.

"Miss, what's wrong, is someone chasing you?" he asked in a vaguely authoritative tone, placing his hands on her shoulders to steady her as she teetered to stop in front of him.

"N- not someone," she was having a bit of trouble speaking around the gulps of air she was pulling in, making lying a little easier, "there was this _huge_ dog, I . . . I don't k-know where it came from, but it- it just started chasing me . . . I don't know where it went . . . but it looked vicious, huge white thing, you- you have to do something."

"Okay, miss, okay," he said calmly as he opened the door for her, "where did you see it last?"

Kagome pointed toward the front of the campus grounds as she pressed a shoulder against the door to keep it open and instantly he was moving, calling over his shoulder to her, "You get inside." The next thing she knew he was unclipping his walkie from his belt to inform someone or other that animal control needed to be called as he took off at a sprint.

Breathing a much needed sigh of_ true _relief as he disappeared from sight, she poked her head inside to look for Miroku- who must have been waiting for _exactly_ two minutes to pass- before he began making his way out of the basement and down the corridor to her. As she stood there, she scanned the parking lot, searching for his car. Clearly Sango had also deemed the security guard as a possible interference and had parked far in the back of the lot.

She held the door for Miroku as he barreled through and pointed in the direction of the car, keeping her eyes peeled for the guard, just in case, as she followed him across the lot. "I'm not even going to ask," he mumbled as she hurriedly opened the passenger's side back door for him to stow Kouga away.

Closing the door himself, he tugged the baggie out of his pocket and handed it to her. "Good, 'cause . . . I'm not sure how I pulled that off, either," she replied as she rounded the car and climbed in.

Once they were all in and Sango pulled out of the lot- opposite of the way the security guard had gone- Kagome asked, "Why couldn't you text one of us about the security guard?"

Sango's face looked pinched suddenly as she bit into her lip for a long moment before replying, "I . . . I just totally blanked on that one. I saw him and just panicked and didn't know what to do."

Holding in an aggravated groan, Kagome let her gaze sweep over the poor, battered, unconscious- and now _drugged_- man beside her before closing her eyes and sitting back. Myoga's neighborhood was so quiet and desolate that they weren't likely to encounter any such issues once they got to their destination.

. . . But nothing excercises one's paranoia so much as driving through town with a bound, kidnap victim in your back seat.

After a very long, excrutiatingly tense twenty-minute drive Sango pulled the car up in front of the old building. Kagome dashed out and in through the doors to buzz Myoga. This time he didn't bother with the intercom, coming straight to open the door for them. As he did so, she darted back to the outer doors and waved to Sango and Miroku to come in. She wasn't certain if it was unusual or comforting that the old man didn't bat an eye as Sango pulled open one of the doors, allowing Miroku to lumber in with Kouga over his shoulder.

Miroku walked directly into the hallway beyond the door the old man held open and simply met Myoga's gaze with an exhausted look. "Which way?"

Kagome caught the door- that swung shut so fast it nearly hit her in the nose- as Myoga released his hold on it to lead Miroku down the corridor to his tiny shambles of an apartment. Sango quirked a brow at Kagome as she joined her and the girls began following.

"This is going to seem rude, but . . . ." Sango broke off her whispered words to Kagome, obviously unsure of how to phrase what she was thinking.

Kagome eyed the pair . . . well, _trio,_ really, waiting until they were inside the apartment before she whispered back, "Reminds you of an overgrown insect in a shabby _yukata_?"

Sango nodded, closing her lips tightly as they walked through the doorway. Miroku was carefully laying Kouga in the center of what appeared to be a circle of salt on the floor. The old man had been busy in this last half hour, every bit of furniture- scant in number though it was- had been pushed against the walls to accommodate whatever ritual he was about to perform.

No sooner had Kagome closed the door quietly behind them then was the old man in front of them. Kagome turned to face him and instantly caught a sound slap in the center of her forehead, and much to her surprise, Sango caught one, too.

"Ouch, hey!" Sango yelped in surprise, raising a hand to cover her forehead.

Myoga only scowled at them, shaking a finger as his gaze darted back and forth between them. "_Insects_ have very good hearing, it seems."

Immediately both girls affected appropriately abashed looks, Sango nodding in agreement as Kagome said, "We're very sorry, we weren't trying to be disrespectful."

After another long look the old man shrugged and turned on his heel heading to the circle. "Good. Come now, we have a spirit to banish."

They followed him across the room, mimicking him as he sat crosslegged outside of the circle. Kagome watched his actions carefully as he lit candles and mumbled under his breath- it was prayers or his grocery list, she couldn't really tell which- and wafted a stick of burning incense over Kouga's body. She realized with a sort of dull start that this was another thing to be added to the vault of secrets she was already carrying around, she couldn't let Nah Rah Ku know what Lyka had attempted. Kagome couldn't even let him find out that crazy-ghost-bitch- she did like that term- had returned. If she did, he would wonder how she'd gotten rid of the loathsome spirit without his aid . . . and if he discovered that she was learning to exorcise such entities . . . .

Her eyes welled up for a moment and the tip of her nose stung. She hung her head for a moment, drawing in a deep breath and letting it out slowly as she tried to get a grip on her sudden bout of worry and fear.

She didn't know what he would do if he learned such a thing . . . only that it would not be beneath him to make Professor Taisho suffer for her actions.


	28. Retributions

_Honest to God,_

_I would break your heart,_

_Tear you to pieces,_

_And rip you apart._

~30 Seconds to Mars, "Night of the Hunter"

**Chapter Twenty-Eight**

Retributions

For a long, strained time it felt as though no one in the room was even breathing. Such an odd sensation . . . so still and somehow fragile that Kagome wondered if the world outside of this delicate bubble of thrumming, pulsing quiet hadn't taken a pause.

She wasn't even entirely certain how much time was passing- was this many minutes flying by, or long, protracted seconds creeping past them?- as they patiently and silently watched Myoga, mumbling and muttering under his breath as he hunched over Kouga's unresponsive form. Every so often she could feel a faint tugging, something intangible pulling at her that caused the most bizarre nervous roiling in the pit of her stomach.

It wasn't clear to her how she realized it, or even when, but eventually she came to understand that this was Myoga borrowing her energy. The old man probably would never acknowledge it openly, but he simply no longer had the strength to perform this task on his own and thus was taking little bits and pieces of hers where and when he needed it.

For a moment, though she had to wonder if it was his age . . . or if Lyka was stronger than any of them had been giving her credit for. _Maybe that's the downside of being a completely psycho bitch, _Kagome mused dryly in the back of her head as she tried to remain focused on what was happening before her. It was not only her own inner thoughts that were making it difficult, but that she felt nearly as if she had to concentrate to stay anchored in her body.

_Strange . . . ._

The incense seemed to be making her thoughts fuzzy and soft around the edges, giving her the impression of being in a dream-like state. She wasn't sure if this was supposed to happen. If she let go . . . if she allowed her consciousness to drift up and out of her body- the way it felt like it _wanted_ to- would she find herself floating above them all in some sort of accidental astral projection? Myoga had already told her she would need to do as much some day soon enough to rid them all of Nah Rah Ku, but _now . . . ._

_No_.

Even currently subdued as Lyka was, her mentor had made it clear, that layer of existence was Lyka's domain and Kagome wouldn't set a proverbial toe there until there was some trusted assurance that the vengeful specter was gone for good.

She jumped as a hand clamped suddenly around her wrist, bony fingers digging into her flesh and disrupting her thoughts entirely. Blinking dazed blue eyes as she snapped herself back into the moment, she looked up at Myoga, who had his back to her still, apparently having reached out blindly to grab a hold of her.

"The jar," he murmured, relinquishing his grip to gesture vaguely towards two wooden bowls beside the small glass container, "dip the opening in the water, press it into the salt, then hand it to me."

Nodding quickly and briefly, Kagome immediately did as instructed. She could tell as soon as she bent over the first bowl that this water wasn't _holy water-_ as all one had to do for that designation was have a priest mutter a prayer over it- it was _blessed_ water; Myoga had probably meditated and muttered over it, imbued it with his own energy, which might also account for his need to borrow spiritual strength, since he'd only had a scant amount of time in which to make preparations for this.

Carefully rolling the mouth of the jar in the salt- long held to be a purifier in and of itself- to be certain there wasn't a single millimeter that wasn't coated, she handed it over to him and sat back once more to watch in a mix of awe and mental note-taking.

Myoga pressed the opening of the jar between Kouga's eyes and began muttering again as he touched the fingers of his free hand in an intricate, circular-based pattern around the young man's forehead. She repressed the strong urge to rub her eyes as she saw, almost like that night when The Thief had extracted the troublesome thing from her own head, a dark, shimmering _something_creeping out of the skin. Expanding and contracting as though it was somehow breathing on its own, it leaked and swirled out of him, swelling until it filled the jar.

Suddenly the way the old man's gnarled fingers gripped the jar changed, as if he was expecting the energy to break free, to fight its way out of this new, unwanted imprisonment. Gesturing with his other hand toward Kagome once more, he whispered urgently, "The salt!"

Glancing around skitteringly- Miroku and Sango were both so silent, and in near-dazed states themselves, that she'd practially forgotten they were there- Kagome instantly snatched up the bowl and scurried over on her knees to hold it steadily beside Kouga's head. She didn't bother to question how she comprehended that this was what was needed of her without any detailed instruction, she simply _knew_ that this was what had to be done.

Nodding grimly, he took pinches of salt and dusted them along Kouga's skin, in a trail leading from where the jar was pressed now toward where Kagome held the bowl, leaving as little room as possible for Lyka to escape, in case there was even the tiniest crack in protections through which she could worm her way out. He slid the jar carefully along the trail he'd created, rubbing more still along the edge of the bowl until it was planted firmly in the center.

"Now," Myoga said with a faint, humorless grin as he slid his hand over Kagome's to take the bowl from her, "we get to make a mess. Get the salt that's beside the incense."

She didn't bother with any response as she scooted back across the circle to fetch the second, slimmer jar. By the time she returned to them Myoga, had, indeed, made quite the mess, turning the bowl over so that salt fell both into the jar- at which point the dark, glittering mass of energy within began to swirl more frantically- and sprinkled in a gritty little heap onto the floor.

At this, Myoga finally did look away from his task, fixing his gaze on his student's, impressing upon her the gravity of her assistance being_ flawless_. "I am going to slide the bowl away- you are to _immediately _place the opening of that jar into this one so the salt fills it. Eee-mmeee-diate-leeeee."

The creaky voice and elongated announciation caused the already wide-eyed spiritualist -in-training to force a hard gulp down her throat. Nodding, she inched closer still, the fingers that gripped the salt jar tingling with icy numbness suddenly and she nervously curled her other hand into a fist and shook it out again several times.

"Ready?"

Kagome frowned deeply as she gave a _sort-of_ nod. She wondered briefly where that courage she'd had just earlier that same day when she'd beaten to a pulp a jock twice her size had mysteriously fled to, but then the situations- despite involving the same malicious entity- were entirely different, no matter how she looked at it.

Slowly Myoga began sliding the bowl to one side and she forced her hand to remain steady as she moved the jar incrementally closer. She could shake herself to pieces later, she _needed_ to be on point now. For the briefest, tiniest second as the bowl slipped completely away she thought she could hear a pained, echoing scream so faint she could have been imagining it, but it silenced the instant the had the other jar upeneded into it, pouring salt into, over, throughout the sick, twisted darkness that was once a simple- if depraved- human being.

The salt looked to dampen instantly; the illusory effect seeped upward, crawling slowly through the white grains until the fill of the jar was turned to a deep purple-black. Something about the change made Kagome's stomach turn even as she moved to fetch the bowl of blessed water Myoga was waving a dismissive hand toward. Pressing the back of her free hand against her lips as she attempted to will the nausea away, she handed it over to him and watched through narrowed, rapidly blinking eyes as he knocked the salt jar to the floor and poured a measure of water into the blackened grains.

Kagome gave an involuntary start as some bizarre explosion of color had taken place, somehow, within the salt itself, throwing blotches of deep blue and washed out purple up against the sides of the jar. Myoga soaked a swatch of white silk in the water, frowning at the reaction as he tied the cloth tightly over the top of the jar, sealing it.

"Still trying to escape," he mumbled in a bitter tone with a shake of his head.

It was a long, silent moment as Myoga placed the jar beside the incense burner and lifted the tray upon which they were both now set, positioning it delicately beneath a closed window. He opened the shade so that sunlight could filter through, bouncing off of the glass in a nearly cheerful way that made the entire incident seem even more dreamlike in contrast as the sudden brightness jarred Miroku, Sango and Kagome, despite the fact that she'd been watching the old man the whole time, but was perhaps more dazed, still, than she'd realized as she had made no attempt to brace herself.

"What now?" she asked dully as the old man puttered about, putting his furniture back in place as though he didn't have a group of drowsy- and still unconscious, in poor, _completely _unwitting Kouga's case- young people littering his tiny apartment.

Bony shoulders shrugged at no one in particular as he shooed her out of his way and, in a blink, had snatched the elbow of Miroku's sleeve. The younger man looked down at him questioningly to which Myoga only gestured vaguely at Kouga and then waved toward the dilapidated sofa.

Kagome wondered briefly at the respect Miroku had for his elders as the man simply gave a deep nod that was almost a bow and proceeded to lift Kouga from the floor and set him on the cushions with no comment or question whatsoever. Certainly they were all respectful to those above them in age or station, but somehow . . . perhaps it was in the way he moved as he did so, or the soft expression that overcame his features, whatever the reason it did seem as though the depth of his respect was something nearly lost on her generation.

She could recall distantly in that moment Sango once telling her his ancestors had been monks . . . perhaps then, his background wasn't too disimliar from her own in that some of the _old_ _ways_ were clung to even as they were given the freedom to embrace modern, even Westernized standards. It seemed a paradoxal upbringing when she thought about it in regards to someone else, even as it made her realize she'd never before noticed such about her own background.

Myoga sat on his knees beside the couch and gently placed his hands on the sides of Kouga's head. "Now I heal your friend," he cast a quick glance over his shoulder at her, "so he doesn't awaken with half of his brain functions diminished."

Kagome couldn't help rolling her eyes as Sango walked over- looking as dishelved as if she'd just been roused from a deep sleep- and rubbed her friend's shoulder. "Don't let it bother you, Lyka _so _had an ass kicking coming to her . . . even if it was someone else's body, _she_ is the one that felt it and that's the important thing."

"I suppose," the mention brought Kagome back to her original point, "Um, I'm sorry, Myoga, when I said 'what now' I meant about . . . Lyka," just saying that name left a bad, filmy taste in her mouth.

"The twisting of her mind was likely helped along by some sort of mental illness. No _human_ is inherently evil, we become that way either through choice- though we may not recognize it as a _choice_ at the time- or design- design, of course, meaning defective parts. However, being trapped as she was for so long with nothing to do but wait and mull over her own perspective of what had transpired . . . . Well, if it can be said this way, that malice toward anyone that would seem to wish to separate her from the demon had spread to saturate her every metaphorical fiber of her soul."

Myoga said all of this in a calm, peaceful near-monotone as he concentrated on _fixing_ Kouga, but something in what he said sent a sharp, cold pulse through Kagome. She understood it, even as it sliced into her. That feeling she'd had when they'd first entered the cavern . . . that horrible sensation of something waiting and watching, lurking in wait to leap out at her any moment. . . .

That _hadn't _been The Thief of Bliss, it had been Lyka all along.

Kagome shook her head at her inner ramblings. She didn't have the time, or the want- she couldn't, _could not_, for the Professor's sake- to start thinking of the things for which Nah Rah Ku was not responsible. She couldn't allow anything to humanize him more than he already was.

"Okay," she muttered in a shaky voice, determined to distract herself," no, I mean what happens with the salt, is she just stuck in there forever?"

"I was getting to that," the old man groused and she could tell from his tone that he was making that same scrunched expression he used whenever he whapped her on the forehead. She'd need to find excuses to cover the area once he was free of his self-impossed obligation to Kouga.

"As the salt dries that evil while be purged from her soul, and only when her energy is free of that weight will it be able to loose itself from the salt. White silk is also effective for resisting negative energy, rinsed in the blessed water, it, too serves as yet another measure to ensure that only that pure soul we all start out as is what leaves that jar. It is the only way to ensure that what she has done will not carry over into her next life."

Sango frowned darkly at that, crossing her arms tightly beneath her breasts. "Wait . . . how is that fair? Don't we all pay for what we did in our last lives in _this _one? Why should someone that _vile_ get a free pass?"

Myoga gave a low, weary sigh. Pulling his hands from Kouga at last, he turned to face them as he replied, "You don't realize this, but that ritual we just did . . . what is happening to her _now-_ since she seems to have the misfortune of being conscious of the process- is more painful than anything you or I could possibly imagine. Unlike you or I, she doesn't have the luxury of a body giving out and dying."

He paused then, and no one was certain if it was for dramatic effect, or if he was searching for the proper phrasing to make them all understand why he'd spared her from karma's wrath. "When our lives give back to us that which we sowed during incarnations prior . . . there's no understandable justice to it, no timeline. It doesn't wait until we're old enough to handle these things. No, young Sango. I could not just draw her out and send her back into the cycle, because I can't predict how or when her next life would make her pay and the retribution for Lyka's wrong-doings . . . we could have been wishing that upon a child and not even knowing it."

Somehow that made the tip of Kagome's nose sting and her eyes water just a little as she and Sango exchanged a silent glance, each rolling Myoga's words around in the minds. No matter what Lyka had done, those crimes belonged solely to _her_. There would be no justice in allowing another person- who's only crime would be having the reincarnated soul of a mentally ill girl, soured and twisted by the torments of unending time and unrequited love, though it might have been- to suffer and there was no controlling when or how, or what quantities in which these crimes would be paid.

Myoga was right, if the retributions of her crimes were to be visited upon that existence while it was still innocent and delicate . . . while that person was still a _child . . . ._

It was unfathomable.

Sango nodded slowly, stubbornly letting her resolve slip away to be replaced by reason . . . and _perhaps_ even a hint of compassion. "I get it," she murmured in a hollow voice.

Nodding in response, Myoga stood and puttered toward his door just as Kouga began stirring. The old man didn't even glance over his shoulder.

Kagome couldn't deny the relief that washed through her as pale blue eyes opened. True that it was to dart frantically about the room and its occupants, but still it was nice to see that he looked like _himself_ once more. In the next moment she was rewarded with yet another warming flood of relief as he quickly pulled himself to sit up, appearing groggy, but otherwise _not_ as though he'd been walloped over the head with heavy texts gods only knew how many times.

"Okay, someone better start talking!" He said in a dangerously low tone that reminded Kagome of a canine growling.

Instantly Miroku was stepping cautiously toward him, giving a convincingly relaxed grin as he began, "See, you fell and bumped your skull really bad . . . . and-"

"I did?" Poor Kouga looked absolutely mystified as he reached a hand up to scratch at his mussed head.

Miroku made a severe face as he sucked his teeth to produce a hissing sound. "Wow, you don't even remember- that happens sometimes with head trauma, people lose like the five minutes or so prior to the injury . . . . Anyways, yes- you were holding the door open for Kagome," Miroku pointed at the girl and she waved, plastering a bright smile in place as Kouga cast a still mildly disoriented look her way, "as she was coming up from the basement store rooms 'cause the poor little thing had this huge stack of texts she was carrying and . . . Um, Kags," Miroku looked over at her, "How did that even happen?"

Kagome's voice caught in her throat for a moment as she shrugged helplessly. "Ya know, I'm not even sure, all I know is I was coming through the door and then suddenly . . . you, me, the books . . . all at the bottom of the stairs. I kind of landed on top of you, so uh, thanks for taking the brunt of the fall."

Sango could only give a long, exaggerated blink as she listened to her best friend and boyfriend come up with such a blithe, on-the-spot cover story. Clearing her throat, she pinched tiredly between brows as she muttered, "Don't look at me, all they told me was 'get the car'."

Kouga's dark, arched brows shot up into his bangs. "You _landed_ on me?" he shook his head, giving a short, low chuckle at himself, "Now I kinda wish I remembered. Where the fuck are we?"

Myoga cleared his throat at that and Kouga's gaze leaped to the elderly man. "Oh, oh, shit, I'm sorry," at the utterance of another foul word Myoga's already slightly sour expression darkened, "Oh, I . . . I'm sorry." Kouga managed a half-bow from where he was seated, not quite sure how to smooth it over.

After a painfully awkward moment the old man gave one of his usual shrugs. "Whatever."

"Listen," Miroku began explaining as he stood and motioned for Kouga to stand as well, keeping an eye on their _patient_ in case he was going to be more wobbly than he looked, "I know there's a track meet coming up and you were out cold. I figured if we brought you to a hospital or the campus infirmary you'd have to miss it, even if you turned out to be 'okay'. So we brought you to a . . . homeopathic healer instead."

Kouga nodded slowly once he was standing and had his bearings. "Then . . . I guess I should be saying thank you?"

At this, everyone in the room shrugged a little as Myoga opened the door, only too happy to shoo them all out of his apartment.

* * *

Taisho Sesshomaru paced around his office restlessly. He was getting _worse_, if that was possible. He paused in his contained wandering, letting his head tip back as he smoothed his hands over his hair, amber eyes squeezing tightly shut. He had always been in control before. Time and place prevailed whenever he'd been around her before, reminding him to keep his words and actions unemotional, impersonal. Though that was probably how that kiss had snuck up on them that night on her porch- no one had been around. But this time, she'd had to remind him that they were somewhere that even an inappropriate split-second glance could have disasterous results.

It had never mattered before how often he'd thought about her . . . Or the ways in which he had thought of her. Quickly he shoved the latter half of that ever-dangerous line of thinking to the back of his head. He'd been working so diligently to not allow his sordid dreams to invade his waking mind. Even now echoes of the imaginings he'd had of her were enough to set off fine tremors in his body, enough to make him embarrassingly, painfully hard and he would _not_ reduce this to something that was purely physical. She deserved so much more than that from him.

He'd had to push himself, as well, not to be possessive of her. That was the thing he couldn't quite understand; he'd never been that sort of person, but then . . . he paused, glancing at his wall calendar. For all his life had held, for all that had befallen him once upon a time, he was self-aware enough to admit that he had never been in love with someone. He dreaded to think that this sort of darkness was brought out in him by an emotion that was supposed to be pure, a font of strength and virtue . . . . And yet it turned him into something primal.

Especially recently . . . he hid it exceptionally well, considering how often the feelings battered at him. Ever since that blow up at the site with Bruckner . . . it had only been a few seconds before he'd been able to reign himself in, but still it had been enough to show him that the idea of Higurashi Kagome looking at any other man the way she looked at _him_ flipped a switch in him, turning him into something primitive and animalistic.

Something that declared her as _his_ and would tear to shreds anything or anyone that tried to take her from him.

Sighing heavily, he pulled his chair from his desk and sat, propping his elbows on the desk and rested his forehead against the heels of his palms. This could not keep happening, but then he couldn't stay away from her, either. He was a mature, well-educated, grounded individual . . . these thoughts were not supposed to be in _his _head.

And lately . . . he couldn't shake the feeling that he was vying for her attentions. He _knew_ there wasn't- as tactless as it felt to think of it that way- a man in her life, and Higurashi wasn't the sort of woman to be frivolous in her affections with anyone.

Even acknowledging all of this- for the hundreth time- he couldn't put aside the gnawing, miserable sensation that someone else wanted her as much as he did.

There was a brief commotion outside rousing him from his thoughts and he stood, stepping over to the window and parting the shades. He recognized Miroku's car instantly, but something else in the scene outside set his teeth on edge and sent a flicker of angry heat dancing over his skin.

Higurashi Kagome was walking away from the car and a tall man with long dark hair- that he recognized vaguely as a student- had his arm draped around her shoulders. She lifted her head, to listen to something Miroku was saying, but Sesshomaru couldn't take his eyes off of her slim arm wrapped tight around the man's waist . . . of her little hand clasping at the wrist hanging over her shoulder.

* * *

"I told you, I'm fine . . . not that I mind an excuse to be this close to a pretty girl," Kouga said with a laugh as Kagome clung to his wrist.

"Nope, not budging until Miroku gets his butt around the car to walk you to your dorm," oddly, she was ignoring how easily she was . . . well, _ignoring_ his clumsy compliment.

"Kagome, seriously," Miroku called from over the hood of the car after he climbed out, causing her to look up at him, "one wrong step and he'll crush you under foot by accident."

She gave a weary sigh, "I'm not as petite as you people keep making me out to be."

A split-second feeling crept over her and Kagome had to force herself to repress a shiver at the sense that someone was watching them.

* * *

Frowning, he stepped back from the window and gave his head a firm shake. He stood by his thoughts of her- it was probably perfectly innocent. Young people hung all over their friends all the time like that. Just because he didn't recognize the man didn't mean she wasn't familiar with him.

He_ trusted_ Higurashi Kagome. Maybe the man was sick? Yes, that made perfect sense, given how she was clinging to him. Nodding to the empty room, he forced himself to think reasonably. Whoever he was, he hadn't looked too steady on his feet, after all.

Still this had unsettled Sesshomaru. Even if Kagome wasn't interested in anyone besides_ him, _that obviously didn't mean that there wasn't anyone interested in her. Once more he tried to coax reason back into his thoughts. He suceeded . . . mostly, forcefully ignoring the tiny, burning daggers jabbing into his chest.

Just as he thought he had managed to tame the most volatile of his emotions- a grown man, a college professor and accomplished archeologist, no less, had actually considered storming out of his office to go beat another man to a bloody pulp for _daring _to be so close to her- he began to feel . . . sleepy, almost overpoweringly so, in fact.

"Sesshomaru, you really need to get sleep," he scolded himself as he stretched out on the too-small-for-someone-his-height couch.

It seemed as soon as he closed his eyes, Taisho Sesshomaru fell into a deep slumber, unaware that only a few heartbeats later they snapped open again, glittering like molten gold . . . .

And threaded through with fine veins of bright, furious red.


	29. Justifiable Fears

**Chapter Twenty-Nine**

Justifiable Fears

The Thief tipped his head to one side as his narrowed gaze swept over the face of the sleeping human male. Nah Rah Ku did not like this angry, roiling feeling in the pit of his stomach. He understood from this Sesshomaru's thoughts that his little priestess was likely not interested in the attentions of this . . . creature that lay before him and yet . . . that this man, this _Kouga,_ might be interested in_her_ sent white hot pangs of jealousy piercing through his chest.

Faint though it was, he'd detected her scent, had followed it straight to Kouga. The temptation had been sore, indeed, to simply go straight to her and remind her of whom she belonged to, and yet such an act would serve no real purpose if his host's thoughts upon the situation held true. No, this was not the result of disobedience on her part. He disregarded that this notion, alone, should alarm him greatly. She was supposed to be a source of sustenance, nothing more.

If he allowed himself to twist that ideal enough, he could force it to make sense. This had nothing to do with _her_, specifically, it could not. He was . . . protecting himself by seeking to protect his sole means of keeping himself sustained. Yes, that was it. Finally finding a line of thinking that he considered justifiable, Nah Rah Ku had let tiny, ebbing bits of the darkness within him creep out, seeping and sinking into silver locks, muddying golden irises, obscuring the features and markings of his face just enough. Just until he was no more than a faceless stranger, a quick glimpse of crimson-threaded eyes and long black hair.

He felt a mere phantom of his original self this way; the glimmering slippery darkness turning him into something that would later be played off as a figment of one's imagination.

* * *

Kouga opened sleep-bleary eyes to see a silhouetted figure standing at the foot of his bed. The usual night-time darkness of the room made it difficult to determine if this was simply a trick of the light. As he tried to bring the image into focus, his brain still murky and bogged-down from interrupted slumber, he realized with a chill that sent a bolt of electricity up his spine that the being's long hair was being lifted by a breeze that was entering the room from the nearby window. A window that Kouga _always_ kept locked, but was now wide open.

Instantly he was turning on his side, groping under his bed for his baseball bat. No sooner had he begun to slip his fingers around it than was the shadow thing on him, gripping a clawed hand painfully tight around his throat as he was lifted with great ease and slammed into the wall behind him. Letting out a startled breath he stared at what was before him, unable to utter any more sound than that at the inky, red-stained eyes glaring back at him.

Gods dammit! He was a _man!_ He might be scared shitless right now, but he was damned if he was going to let this thing know it! Just barely refraining from forcing a gulp down his already constricted throat, he shot a split-second glance towards his dorm-mate's bed, wondering why the noise hadn't stirred him, only to find it empty. _Shit!_ He'd forgotten that Bankotsu was out of town. People sure picked lousy times to have family emergencies.

Kouga squared his broad shoulders, trying- and only really caring if it _appeared _successful- to ignore that he was being held on the tips of his toes by this creature that had gone from the floor to standing on the bed in the blink of an eye and with no visible movement that he could detect. "What do you want?" He managed to grate out in a raspy, tough-sounding whisper.

The thing tipped its head to the side once more- as it had been doing when Kouga had first opened his eyes to see it- and, obscured though the features were, he could have sworn that it suddenly gave a smirk that was both malicious and quietly amused. Faster than Kouga could formulate a thought, the creature clamped its free hand over his mouth and yanked him from the wall. Pulling him with it as though he weighed nothing at all, the creature launched itself out of the open window at a speed that was downright mind-numbing.

By the time Kouga could scrape any words together in his mind at all- the fact that the only phrase he could mentally utter was _Oh shit, _notwithstanding- he was already falling. The creature had released him in the air, letting his body crash hard into the ground before it landed neatly on its feet beside him.

Coughing painfully at the raw, uncomfortable sensation of having the air knocked out of his lungs, Kouga scrambled backwards until he felt the rough bark of a tree at his back- they were at the far end of campus, where the carefully manicured greenery of the university's grounds began to give way to a lightly forested park-like sprawl. Pushing and edging himself upwards, Kouga got to his feet, but was not quite fool enough to try stepping away from the support of the tree just yet in case the drop had done more than merely force the wind out of him.

Pale blue eyes squeezed tightly shut for a moment as he tried to gain his bearings. It wasn't possible that they'd crossed this much distance in a hair's breadth of time, it simply _wasn't_. Was this a dream? A nightmare? A hallucination from some damage left over by his earlier head trauma?

Opening his eyes, he fixed his gaze on the thing before him again. It hadn't seemed to budge from its original place as he'd moved to get himself standing, but Kouga was too well aware already that this thing didn't need to come any closer to be on him in a heartbeat.

"What do you want?" He asked again, his voice coming out in a growl that was as much to cover fear as it was a sound of sheer anger and irritation.

Once more donning that difficult to decipher expression that Kouga could only guess was a wicked smirk the thing took measured steps towards him- and he didn't bother moving, since the creature's speed would make the attempt a wasted effort. Was it some kind of . . . demon or something?

In the time he had before the thing graced him with an answer, Kouga chided himself. Demons didn't exist; he only even stabbed at that thought because of the darkness, because of the barely-visible crimson-laced eyes. Tales of demons roaming the East went by the wayside with the passing of the Feudal Era. This _had_ to be something rational . . . . He _had_ to somehow be imagining this.

Kouga felt that thought confirmed as he found the creature suddenly beside him, the long, clawed fingers of one of its hands splayed over his face as it whispered in his ear. "I am nothing. I am a dream . . . I am something that tells you that Higurashi Kagome is _not_for you and the only way to keep yourself safe is to keep away from her."

A tiny flicker of surprise ran through his mind- his subconscious thought a girl like Kagome would be bad for him?- but before he could register anything beyond that, those inhumanly strong fingers were pulling his face forward and then-

* * *

Nah Rah Ku didn't slam the back of the man's head into the tree nearly as hard as he would have liked. Still, the feel of bone impacting the surface to reverberate through his hand was somewhat satisfying. He relinquished his hold and stepped back, watching with amusement as Kouga crumbled to the ground. It was moments like this that he wished he did not possess even the slightest shred of common sense. His baser instincts told him to tear the man's throat out and leave him for dead. His common sense- which was irritatingly helped along, and grounded in, Taisho Sesshomaru's ability to see reason nearly at all times- told him that were he to kill Ookami Kouga, there was the chance the action could be traced back to his host.

He would not allow such a slip up- this Sesshomaru's life was _his_ to ruin if he pleased; he would not allow his anger to let another squander such ownership. In something of an effort to let his rage cool- though he knew himself well enough to understand that it would have only minimal effect by the time he reached her- The Thief turned on a heel and began making his way back across the campus grounds at a leisurely stroll.

* * *

Kagome stirred in a half-sleeping haze, not certain when it was that she'd begun to wake, only aware of the bizarre sensation of lips that weren't really there brushing against her ear. Of a voice she couldn't really hear murmuring for her to come find . . . _someone_. She was attempting to ignore it, but the longer she went without responding, the more insistent the impossible sensations became. The beckoning words thrummed and repeated urgently through her sleepy mind, the ghosting lips moving against the skin of her ear seeming to warm, to caress more gently with each repetition, sending a brief, flickering heat through her.

It wasn't until she felt herself squirming in her bed, as though her body was responding to some phantom lover, that she forced herself to sit up, even if it was only out of embarrassment and the shameful redness she knew was flooding her face. Rubbing her eyes, she reluctantly pulled herself out from under her blanket and stuffed her feet into her fuzzy slippers. Whatever was disturbing her sleep- she diligently ignored that she thought she had a pretty good idea what was responsible for this- was _going_ to be sorry for messing with her at the wee hours of the night!

She trudged quietly passed Sango's bed, reflexively smoothing a hand over her sleep-rumbled hair as she opened the door with the other and stepped out into the painfully illuminated corridor. Grumbling as slid her hand from her hair to shield her eyes, she quietly pulled the door shut behind her and cast a squinty-eyed glance around.

It ran through her again- that odd sensation of being called for- and she waited a moment, tried to _feel_ out a direction before allowing herself to follow it. Kagome let her body simply wander toward this sound that wasn't a sound, as though her limbs were being tugged along on some invisible string. She denied that her brain was still in a dull, sleep-fuzzed haze, adamantly told herself that she was simply saving her strength, bundling her agitated thoughts until she was face to face with him, then she'd give him what-for and be on her way back to her room.

She ignored the mocking tone of that naggy inner voice of hers as it reminded her that meetings with him- if this _was_ him, if not she had no idea what she was in for or why she was going- never went as _she_ planned, anyway. Why should she expect that to change now?

Kagome had already moved through at least four hallways and descended three flights of stairs before she found herself standing in the sub-basement of the women's dormitory. The entire time her mind was able to note in only a very distant fashion that no doors that should be locked barred her path, no one that might mistake her wandering for sleep walking and return her to her dorm room seemed to notice her. A breathless, panicky whisper trembled out from that dim corner in the back of her head- that seemed the only part of her brain to continue functioning properly- asking if he had somehow become more powerful . . . or if she'd simply never witnessed how far-reaching his powers were before.

She moved down the stairs with slow, oddly sure footsteps until her small slippered feet brought her to a stop on the dusty tiled floor.

"You certainly took your time, little priestess," she heard the familiar purring-murmur as he stepped out from the shadowed recess beneath the staircase.

It was dim here, the only real light entering the bleak, age-dulled white space that of lamp posts pouring in through narrow windows high up on the far walls, but even in this weak illumination she was surprised to see the darkness of the figure that stood there. He took a few measured strides to bring himself directly before her, letting a little of that rich, inky blackness slip away until it was gone entirely.

Kagome instantly opened her mouth to rail at him- proud of herself that she was keeping to that earlier mental declaration, questionable as it had been at the time- but was stopped just as quickly as she noticed the tiny veins of crimson twining through the gold of his irises, only visible enough that she understood they were receding; whatever had caused his wrath had already come and gone. She could still feel it, though . . . the dark emotions still floated off of him to hang in the air like puffy clouds of incense.

Though not entirely certain how she was able to pick up so much from him, she _knew_ that something had happened. Something involving the source of his rage, something he had done to quell that rage . . . .

Before she could stop herself her hand was lifting until it was pressed gently against his face, her palm cupping his cheek, the tips of her fingers resting delicately against his temple. "What have you done?" she managed to force out in a hushed tone.

For a long time he didn't respond, simply staring back at her mutely. Slowly he lifted his hand to cover hers; clawed fingers placed over her smaller and so-fragile-seeming ones. Kagome didn't know what to make of this gesture, of the anger and confusion she could see just below the usual calm, cold expression he always wore.

The corners of his mouth curved downward ever so slightly and it was an unpleasant shock to realize how much such a tiny change could alter his expression. His fingers slid downward, locking around her slender wrist and all but tearing it away from him. Kagome barely had time to blink before he'd spun them both, whirling her with him to place them beneath the stairs.

The air rushed out of her as he pressed her body against the wall behind her with his own. Releasing her wrist he swept his hands down the length of her body, sweeping up the ends of her knee-length night shirt and scooping up her legs to rest them over his hips, supporting her weight entirely between himself and the wall.

He'd never been one to waste time, but this frenzied pace- combined with the savage emotions she'd felt from him- frightened her, yet no sooner could she say anything than he slammed his hips forward, grinding himself between her legs. Instantly she felt her body respond the way he'd taught it to, felt the damp warmth starting already despite the fact that his current state had renewed her seemingly long-forgotten fear of him.

The Thief felt oddly inebriated by the mingling scents swirling up from her skin. Pulling himself back just a little, he lowered his head, catching a nipple roughly between his teeth through the flimsy cotton-ish material of the garment she wore as he circled his hips, withdrawing and pressing himself into her, as deep as the restraining fabric of his bothersome clothing would let, again and again. The hiccupping, mewling whimpers that escaped her as he took more of her breast into his mouth, biting down, swirling his tongue over her flesh, was music to his ears . . . . .

But it was _not_ enough.

She smelled absolutely delectable. Those scents she was giving off . . . fear and arousal were simply _too_ tempting when combined. He _had_ to taste this from her.

Kagome let out a strange moaning-yelp as he ground himself sharply against her once more, brought his teeth down on her nipple once more before it seemed he was pulling away. At one time she'd have thought she'd be grateful for such a reprieve, but now it only served to confuse her.

He looked at her for another moment, waited to see her expression. Only when it seemed she was about to ask him what he was doing did he begin lowering himself, sliding the length of his body against hers as he did so, slipping his arms beneath her thighs as he moved so that he continued supporting her weight. Glancing up at her, he found the look of dazed surprise on her face- that he was holding her up, still, with no more than his hands braced against the wall behind her- was exquisitely priceless.

Catching her gaze, he pointedly lowered his to the sleek, _pleasantly_ dampened, but irritatingly obstructing material directly before his face and murmured, "You will move this for me."

She almost didn't want to, but before she could stop herself, she was already moving a hand, hooking fingers into the embarrassingly warm and moist elastic of her panties to pull them out of his way. Her eyes drifted closed, expecting to feel his mouth on her at any moment, yet still he held back.

"Your other hand . . . part yourself for me," he said, his voice dropping lower to reflect that purring-growl she heard from him sometimes.

Her eyes snapped immediately back open so that she might meet his gaze. His expression was utterly cold and unreadable to her. This wasn't a challenge, he wasn't daring her to defy him; _this_ was a demand and she would comply. _He_ was in control of their interactions, she was aware now that he was reminding her- and probably himself- of that fact.

This was good, Kagome told herself as closed her eyes again and let her head roll to one side against the wall. If he continued behaving in this way, she would never again forget what he really was, never feel another pang of guilt that she was relieved to think of each day as another day closer to being rid of him. Trying to keep her embarrassment in check, she lowered her other hand between her legs, feeling the soft flesh there and parted the folds gently, exposing herself to him.

"Good girl," he grated out in a primal-sounding whisper before closing the distance to begin feasting on her.

Kagome couldn't help crying out, but caught herself; sinking her teeth into her bottom lip. She- _they,_ she reminded herself quickly, as any potential intruder would see her with Professor Taisho- didn't need some passion-fueled outburst catching the attention of the night security staff.

He swirled and flicked at the delicious little bead of flesh with the tip of his tongue before sealing his lips around it, drawing it gently between his teeth to suckle at it. The effort she was making to keep quiet, even as her hips started pushing themselves forward, to offer more of this moist, heated, perfect part of her to his mouth was amusing to him. He pulled back again, wanting to see the tiny bead swollen and glistening, enjoying every hint of the evidence that no matter how her mind and her rationale fought, her body wanted him each and every time.

As if in response to his musings, nearly as soon as he'd moved away- fractional though it was- she was straining, her hips rocking forward, as if presenting herself to him. He lapped the flat of his tongue over it once, twice, taking a moment to enjoy the way her entire body shivered after each stroke, to enjoy the muted sounds of her moans slipping out from deep in the back of her throat before he once more sealed his mouth against moist, slippery warmth.

This time it was to pull on that delicate bit of flesh almost savagely, to catch it between his teeth and keep her trapped there, suckling at it harder and harder. The more she trembled, the more fiercely her hips jerked beneath his ministrations, the more hungry he seemed to become.

Kagome found herself already pushing her body towards an orgasm. He was being so rough that it bordered on painful, and yet, it added something to that sweet, aching pressure he was building. It simply felt _so_ good that she couldn't deny wanting him to make her come. Distantly she heard a muttering voice, realizing with a dazed start, that it was her own.

"Please, please . . . oh gods," the murmured, breathless words met his ears and he responded instantly, nodding against her as he continued working over her, lapping and nibbling and suckling until she went completely taut beneath his mouth.

She gasped loudly, even as her body stilled, hearing the sounds he made as he feasted on her. Wet, slippery . . . _hungry_ . . . he sounded like a starved beast gorging itself.

Nearly as soon as it began to ebb- as soon as he'd taken what he needed from her- he pulled away, giving her barely enough time to lower wobbly legs to the floor so she didn't fall, just a moment to glimpse the post-feed glow of those golden eyes. There was a brush of dust past her as he'd taken his hands from the walls, but now, in a blink, he was gone.

Drawing in a deep, shaky breath, she let herself slip down the wall to land hard on her butt, pressing a palm to her forehead. "Wh . . . what the hell was _that_?" she asked herself in a breathless whisper.

She made every effort to collect herself before putting her hands against the wall to lift herself carefully on her still shaky legs. Inconsiderate damned demons- he could have at least waited until her orgasm was_ completely_ finished. As her fingers brushed upwards she felt oddly damp holes in the concrete. Frowning, she spun on a heel and knelt down, examining the punctures in the dense stone. It was still dark, still very dim in here and she needed to squint, but it became clear quickly enough that these marks had been made by his claws.

Before she understood what was happening, her legs were carrying her right back out of that recess, up the stairs and back into corridors that would lead her to the imagined safety of her dorm room. He'd pierced concrete without even trying . . . . he'd pressed the tips of his fingers- of Taisho Sesshomaru's fingers- against the rough, unyielding stone so hard that he'd made himself bleed and he hadn't even noticed.

How very much had she been underestimating Nah Rah Ku all this time? He hadn't been intending to punish her, or he'd have pointed the injury out to her. This had only been an _accidental_ example of his strength. Kagome was trembling by the time she reached her door way, blinking back tears as she worried over Professor Taisho awaking with more mystery wounds.

* * *

Kouga was dazed when he awoke, but what he opened his eyes to this time was vaguely familiar, and thus very comforting. White, sterile walls . . . antiseptic nothingness filled his nostrils_. Hospital_, the initial thought that this was safe was ripped from him as he realized he couldn't be very safe if he didn't remember how he'd gotten here, but then he listened to the doctor.

He didn't bother with arguing the physician's words, it didn't matter that he had never sleepwalked a day in his life. Beaten up by some vagrant in that vulnerable state? Sure, why not?

Hell, that made more sense than what _he_ remembered, anyway. Maybe this was all a dream. Some conjuring of his own subconscious or not, he understood one thing for certain. He was going to steer clear of Higurashi Kagome.

* * *

Kagome fidgeted nervously in class as Professor Taisho was going on about his lesson, ignoring the blatant, inquiry-laden gawking by some of his students at the Band-Aids covering four of his fingertips. She could feel that Sango and Miroku's gaze kept sweeping in her general direction, the question of whether or not she knew how that had happened in their eyes, visible plainly to her despite how they were trying to hide it. But she was making a concerted effort to ignore that.

"Hey," she heard Shippo whispering to Ayame.

"Huh?"

"You heard about Kouga?"

Kagome whipped her head around in that instant, meeting Sango's wide-eyed gaze.

"What?" the auburn-haired girl nearly shrilled, earning her an unhappy glance from the front of the classroom.

Shippo dutifully waited until Professor Taisho turned his back on them to go back to something on the board and picked up his silky-voice, albeit booming lecture once more. "He's in the hospital. They're saying some mugger stumbled over him while he was sleepwalking at the other side of the campus!"

Immediately Ayame's scrawny arm shot up, her hand waving frantically in the air. "Professor?"

"Yes, Garou?"

"I'm sorry, I have to go!" Before he could respond one way or the other she was snatching up her things and bouncing out of her seat.

"Spontaneous emergency?" He inquired with a doubtful lift of his brow.

"Uh-huh," she replied in earnest, her head bobbing in an emphatic nod, "I'm sorry but my . . um . . . Kouga's in the hospital, I gotta go!"

He nodded briefly, waving toward the door. He oddly was able to put a face to the name now, even if he'd not when he'd seen the young man last night, holding onto Kagome like some kind of human anchor.

Kagome couldn't shake the feeling that he looked . . . like he was going to be sick. Certainly, the mild change would be lost on anyone else, but she knew Taisho Sesshomaru too well to miss what that expression meant. His gaze brushed over the bandaged fingers, but he shook this off almost instantly to return to his lesson.

She couldn't deny that she recognized, just as easily, just as quickly, the expression that had flickered across his features in that moment, as well. It sent an icy shot lancing through her chest to see that from him, to know she couldn't ease his confusion. But she understood now, somehow, The Thief's bitter, distancing emotions last night.

She could only sit and wonder how badly Nah Rah Ku had truly hurt Kouga as she watched Sesshomaru asking himself, _What did I_do_?_


	30. Hard Truths

**Chapter Thirty**

Hard Truths

Kagome shoved her coffee away, blue eyes rolling in anger and just a twinge of hurt. "Look," she muttered, her gaze darting back and forth between Sango and Miroku several times as they sat across the coffee shop booth from her, "I don't know what happened, okay? How many times do I have to say it?"

Sango reached across the table tentatively, gently patting her friend's hand. "Hey, no one's blaming you for . . . well, _whatever_happened, we're just worried about the professor and you're the only one with any kind of inside track."

The coffee shop was near-empty as it was, but even so they'd chosen a booth way in the back so their low-toned conversation wouldn't risk being overheard by any that might get the wrong impression about Kagome and Professor Taisho's relationship. Despite the measured, though notably small, amount of imaginary privacy this should have incurred, none of the three could stop from glancing around every few seconds, nor could they bring themselves to raise their voices above a loud whisper.

Likewise, none of the three needed to really speak on the underlying anxiety, to voice the reason for it, to know that the other two felt it as well. Somehow this turn of events had pulled a cloud over their heads, one that each of them was acutely, painfully aware of, making them feel as though they were involved in some sort of conspiracy to keep the demon's actions secret. It was almost as though they were helping _him_- a notion that, just a handful of weeks ago, Kagome questioned if it was really so terrible a thing, how could she not after he'd shown her different sides of himself entirely, never mind how reluctant she'd been to acknowledge them- causing them to all remind themselves that it wasn't that they were helping The Thief, but that they were protecting Professor Taisho.

It was an admittance that did little to cushion the blow, to take the edge off the painful knowledge that the only way to protect the professor _was_ by helping the demon. It did nothing to ease the sour feeling turning in their stomachs at the idea of something horrible befalling Professor Taisho because of this . . . this _thing _they could not share with him.

Kagome hated to think it, but in a very strange way she was a little bit grateful for this. It was because Sango and Miroku could not miss the look on the professor's face just a few hours ago, couldn't un-see his confused and worried expression as he tried to connect his mystery wounds to the attack on Kouga and failed- not because he couldn't connect the two, but because he couldn't_remember_- that the burden of their parts in all this had grown. Now they understood a little more completely just how much torment she'd been put through over these long months since that night in the temple.

She felt like a terrible person for thinking that way, but she also knew that she _was_ only human and that there was an undeniably stark difference between sympathizing with another person's plight and _truly_ understanding what they were going through. She didn't feel _better_ because they were finally sharing it with her, merely _relieved_ that someone- anyone- could actually comprehend it, but that measure of relief seemed to make the whole situation a fraction easier for her to handle.

Not that she was thrilled about poor Kouga getting beaten up for what seemed like no reason, it was quite the opposite; she was sick with fear that it was somehow her fault. True that she couldn't imagine why the demon would attack Kouga- he had nothing to do with anything, aside from being host to Lyka for a few terrible hours, but there was no way the demon could know of that. And what purpose would it have served him to assault Kouga _after_ the spirit was already gone?

In the uncomfortable, heavy-with-unspoken-thoughts silence that wrapped around their tiny corner of the world at this moment, Kagome was forced to remember, and by mental-reflex ponder, that feeling of being watched the evening prior. Who was to say it wasn't Nar Rah Ku lurking in some dark corner of the campus parking lot, spying her holding onto Kouga and most likely misinterpreting the scene? She'd had no reason to make the connection before, but now . . . ? He was aware of the professor's thoughts- a point she'd never forgotten. Perhaps the professor had seen them and The Thief had picked up on it? The demon had made it painfully clear from the beginning that he wouldn't stand for anything to endanger his source of sustenance.

Her stomach flopped and churned suddenly . . . it was the only avenue of possibility that made any sort of sense.

"Oh, gods," she mumbled, reaching for her coffee again with fingers that were trembling ever so slightly to take a quick sip before going on, "I think I know . . . . not 'what' happened, but at least the 'why' of it."

The couple exchanged a brief glance before, almost in unison, leaning a bit across the table to listen to Kagome's breathy, barely-audible words. After she explained what she'd felt, what logical conclusion she'd come to, they sat back, both clearly trying to form their own thoughts on the situation.

"It's still not _your_ fault," Miroku said, after a moment of drumming his fingers against his chin, "and by letting yourself feel like it is, you're giving him power over you."

"I . . . I don't think . . ." Kagome's voice shook a bit, blue eyes going wide in a mix of fear and shame- Miroku sounded mad, and she'd never heard him mad before, but she couldn't understand what he was saying- how could she not feel at least a little responsible?

"Miroku, baby," Sango began, turning in her seat a little to face him, "we went over this, no one is blaming her. You don't need to say things that are going to make her feel worse in some weird, reverse-psych way to make her feel better."

Setting his jaw, he turned his gaze to meet his girlfriend's. "_We_ aren't blaming her, but _she_ is blaming herself. Don't you get it? That's why she stopped fighting him, that's why she gives into him, 'cause she thinks this- that everything to do with . . . with _him_- is her fault. She _needs_ to hear this."

Kagome could feel the warm irritation building in her eyes, could feel the lump threatening to clog in her throat. "I'm sitting _right_here," she muttered, knowing that everything Miroku was saying was probably true.

He pulled in a lungful of air, letting it out as a heavy sigh before turning to face Kagome again. "I know this whole . . . fucked up mess of a thing has been really hard for you, but you need to hear me on this: you did _nothing_ to bring this on yourself. There was, and is as of yet, nothing _you_ could do about the professor's situation with the demon. You're making the whole thing harder on yourself by fabricating connections that place you at fault for that thing getting out."

"I'm . . . I'm _not_ doing that," she grumbled, shifting uncomfortably under the weight of their gazes. "And however I do feel is perfectly natural for someone in these circumstances."

Sango could only sit mutely by, unsure of what to say as Miroku continued laying out painful truths before an unwilling Kagome. "I have to say this, okay? I don't think you understand the danger in the way your subconscious is working. You're becoming like one of those abused housewives-"

"What?"

He simply went on as though Kagome hadn't just had a tiny, angry, teary-eyed outburst. "Those women who excuse their husbands' behavior until they start thinking they somehow deserve to get hit, that they've brought it on themselves. They accept it and thoughts of getting out, of putting a stop to the situation, give way to compliance. They get settled in that strange comfort-zone of not knowing there's another way to live; like they can't remember what it was like to have a healthy, _normal_ way of life." He shook his head, speaking the next words through lightly clenched teeth, "You need to get that fear of that thing that's hiding inside the professor back into the forefront of you mind because those women who've given into that kind of thinking, that kind of . . . unaware willingness . . . some of them have lost their lives to it."

Kagome felt both oddly detached from herself- she could _feel_ the furrowing of her brow, the tears finally breaking free to spill down her cheeks, but it was distant, like remembering a sensation from a dream- and yet somehow completely in the moment. Even though it wasn't like that- she knew it wasn't like that . . . at least not the way Miroku was seeing it, so black and white with no gray spaces anywhere- she couldn't help but feel struck by the weight of his words. She didn't know where this was coming from, but from the way Sango was looking at him, from the way her breath thundered just a little as it escaped her lips, Kagome could guess that there were things about Miroku's past she'd rather not know.

Before she could stop herself, though, Kagome was pulling her bag into her lap to fish out some change to cover her still half-full cup of coffee. "No," she murmured simply, slapping the money down onto the table top before slinging her backpack over her shoulder and sliding out of the booth. "I won't . . . I won't be like that. I'm_ going_ to stop him, you'll see!"

Rather than heading back to the dorms, Kagome made a beeline for the nearest bus stop. She was going to go home and get her rarely used, wreck of a car. Wiping the back of her hand across her cheeks, she dug her cellphone out of her bag and dialed Myoga.

The old man answered after the first ring, but she was speaking into the phone before he could say a word. "We can start those lessons, now, like right now since Lyka's been dealt with, right?"

It was silent for a moment before Myoga replied. "You sound determined. Good, we're going to need that. Yes, we can start now, I'll make preparations."

* * *

It was only after Kagome had disappeared beyond the vantage point of the coffee shop's large windows that Sango spoke. "I understand wanting to protect Kagome, I do, too . . . but this _wasn't_ about your mother."

Miroku nodded slowly, lowering his gaze to the bit of laminate he was picking off of the table top with his fingernails. "I know, but . . . I can't help but see it. I _see_ the basic pathology there, I can see that if it continues that's how she's going to end up and I _can't_ let that go."

"I've never seen you get like that before, baby," she murmured, reaching over to settle her hand over his, stopping his fidgeting.

His eyes drifted closed for a long moment as he replied, "That's because I didn't _know _what was actually going on_. _Even when you guys first told me the truth, I couldn't really contextualize it, but after he singled out Kouga like that last night . . . .If I'd known sooner what that thing was capable of, of what it could do to her- hell, to the both of them . . . . You can bet your pretty little ass I'd have said something sooner."

Cracking a sad smile, she inched her way across the seat to rest her cheek in the hollow of his shoulder. "I know you had to say those things, I just hate seeing her look like that."

He let out another heavy sigh, dropping his chin gently down on top of Sango's head. "I don't like it either, but . . . if it takes me making her hate me for the rest of her life to light a fire under her ass about this, so be it. She might not be happy about it- hell, I think I just made her feel gods damned miserable- but at least she's going to get herself free of him."

* * *

A handful of weeks passed, during which nothing seemed to change on the surface. Beneath it all, however, Kagome was beginning to feel more confident about her situation. She'd finally caved and brought her crappy car to school, and every three days she rushed out of her final class and dove in behind the wheel to go to Myoga's.

It had begun with coaxed projections- Kagome's soul leaving her body by the behest of a meditative rite the old man was performing- but slowly, she was learning to do it on her own. She understood of the cord that connected her soul to her physical body, which gave her security, gave her the knowledge that she would always find her way back. Myoga made it clear that only a severe trauma could disrupt the cord, but if she continued her training, she would still be able to return to her body. It helped that feelings of panic or the thought of _needing_ to return snapped one back to the physical plane almost instantly.

That was the part Kagome was still trying to grasp- simply not panicking, because every time she snapped back into her body too soon, the lesson was over. Myoga never let her project more than once in any given session for fear that she would wear herself out, making successive lessons only longer and more arduous for her.

The professor's wounds healed, and he seemed to be ignoring that anything unusual had gone on at all, but then she'd come to expect that of him- anything that didn't make complete sense was tossed to the wayside by him. They continued to give one another only passing acknowledgements- though those quick, shared glances held volumes more meaning when no one else was paying attention.

She settled back into a slightly strained friendship with Miroku, though neither of them- nor Sango- brought up that painful lecture he'd given her in the coffee shop that afternoon. She wouldn't bother to ask Sango about it, either, even when they were alone in their dorm room. If Miroku ever deemed it her business, he'd tell her himself.

Even her encounters with Nah Rah Ku seemed . . . dulled, and stilted somehow. Twice he'd come to her since the night of the attack on Kouga and, unlike his previous visits, he'd barely said a word to her, only taking what he needed of her and vanishing again. In a way, she thought that was easier . . . that if he'd stuck to that sort of quick, repetitive routine from the beginning her emotions would never have become confused.

Instead he'd made her think he was capable of _actual_ feelings. Though, as much as she disliked it, part of her still did think him capable of such, but she knew that that didn't matter. His feelings were not as important as the professor's . . . well, as _anything_pertaining to the professor. The longer he went on treating her like she was nothing more than a meal, the easier it was to commit herself to the notion that he was nothing more than some beast hiding in a human frame.

Kagome was roused from a light, dreamless slumber by the ringing of a cell phone. For a moment, it caused her to think that she_was_ dreaming, because it didn't sound like her phone, or Sango's. . . . . It did, however, sound like Miroku's. She realized dully that it must've bounced out and away when Miroku had dropped his bag earlier while stopping by to take Sango to dinner.

Pulling her head sluggishly up from her desk- it was barely nine, so it wasn't much of a wonder that Sango hadn't returned yet- she waited, listening for another chime. There it went again, and she slid off of her computer chair to the floor, pressing her cheek against the floor to peer under the dresser. She could see the reflected light of the glowing face panel.

Frowning sleepily, she reached in and snatched it, pulling the phone out. She was prepared to simply set it down on Sango's night table when she glimpsed the name of the incoming call. _Taisho, S._

It was already at the fourth ring and she knew that after two more the voicemail would kick in. The thought of answering it, of hearing his voice so unexpectedly, set off butterflies in her stomach and made her heart flop sideways for a moment. Shaking her head at herself- how did he always manage to make her feel like a grade school girl having her first crush- she finally flipped the phone open and set it against her ear.

"Professor?"

There was a long moment of silence before she heard his voice, beautifully deep and a bit gravelly, as always, but now clearly confused. " . . . Higurashi? I . . . I thought I dialed . . . wait . . . ."

He also sounded uncharacteristically dazed as he let his words trail off. "Miroku dropped his phone when he came to pick up Sango," she answered quickly. "Are you okay? You, um . . . you don't sound like yourself."

On his end of the line, Taisho Sesshomaru was pursing his lips- which had lost feeling some time ago- as he peered into another mysteriously empty glass on the bar counter before him. He could have sworn there was a new serving of plum wine in it just a second ago . . . . And he certainly hadn't expected to hear Higurashi Kagome's voice when he'd been calling to ask his assistant to play designated driver. Really, this only happened once a year, did the boy _have_ to have forgotten?

It had been a pleasant surprise to be speaking with her instead, but still . . . surveying the bottle the bartender had left out, allowing him to see he'd finished it all on his own, this could prove embarrassing.

Smacking his lips together, he finally decided to bite the bullet. "That would be because I'm drunk, Higurashi."

Kagome nearly dropped the phone. "You . . . you're . . ." she couldn't seem to wrap her head around it.

"Rotten stinking drunk," he supplied the words for her, and sounded oddly cheerful about it. "I was calling because- wait, wait- Miroku, right I was calling Miroku for a ride home, but I can call a taxi." His voice got distant suddenly and Kagome could picture him pulling the phone away from his face to look at it, "I think I have the number of a car service in here, somewhere."

"Okay- Okay," she raised her voice so he could hear her even with the distance, "you just tell me where you are and _I _will come get you."

Sesshomaru frowned at his phone before placing it against his ear once more; shaking his finger at it as though the young woman one the other end of the line could see the gesture. "Now, Higurashi, that doesn't sound like a good idea."

"Yeah," she said quickly, snatching up her keys and grabbing her purse before heading toward the door, "normally I'd agree with you, but you sound so bad that you probably wouldn't have gotten Miroku's number right if it wasn't in your speed dial . . . well, that and good ideas aren't my forte. Now stop being stubborn and just tell me where you are."

Amber eyes rolled as he gave in and relayed to her the location of the bar. He really couldn't ever win an argument with Higurashi Kagome, could he?


	31. Of a Past Unknown

**Chapter Thirty-One**

Of a Past Unknown

Kagome pulled up outside the address the professor had given, puzzling for a moment over the desolate neighborhood, over the rundown façade of the tiny pub. Why would someone of Professor Taisho's standing come here? But then- as she got out of the car and rounded the vehicle to step up onto the dilapidated sidewalk- she put together the dismal location with the distance she'd had to drive from the school to get here.

No one was likely to know him here. How better to protect his reputation on the extraordinarily rare occasion he got plastered, than to do so in a place where no one knew him?

As she drew close to the door she overcome by the unmistakable sensation of being watched, yet . . . it wasn't like anything she'd felt before- the normally invasive feeling was tempered with curiosity and concern and, if she wasn't mistaken, a hint of sadness. Furrowing her brow, Kagome paused in her steps, casting a glance over her shoulder.

So faint and wisp-like that she almost didn't make it out, was the image of a child, peering at her from around the bend of the building. She blinked rapidly several times at the wide, barely visible eyes- brown, she wasn't sure exactly why she thought it, but she just knew they were brown- staring up at her, Kagome looked around very quickly to be certain no one was near.

She half-expected the tiny specter to have vanished by the time she turned back, yet it was still there. Her mind jumped to a hundred different terrible conclusions that could cause a child ghost, each one aiding in the tears that welled instantly in her eyes, in the tremble that shook her bottom lip ever so slightly. She pushed past that to sift quickly through her lessons with Myoga- it wasn't like in television shows, when you could see spirits, it did not automatically mean you spotted them all over the place, or that every one of them in your vicinity metaphorically flagged you down to either torment you or seek your aid; it simply meant that those who wanted or needed help would put in the effort to reach out to you if they had the strength to do so. And not all of them _wanted_ aid, not all of them wanted to move on . . . so the smart, stubborn ones kept their distance from active mediums.

Forcing a sniffle, she knelt down until she was eye-level with the child, afraid that if she tried to step closer she would scare it off. "It's . . . it's okay, I won't hurt you. Is there something you need from me?"

After a long moment of staring silently, the small, wavering image stepped out from behind the wall and Kagome found herself looking at a little girl who bravely stepped directly up to her so that they were face to face. "I know you wouldn't hurt me," the girl's mouth moved, and yet the sound of her voice wasn't coming from there, seeming to be somehow echoing gently from within Kagome's own head. "I just needed to see you for myself, to know you won't hurt _him_."

"Hurt who?" Kagome whispered, but the girl was already going on again as though she hadn't spoken at all.

"I shouldn't be here," the girl murmured, glancing over her shoulder before turning back to Kagome, "he doesn't need people most of the time, but today is different. Today he needs you to be his strength."

There seemed to be only one person the spirit could be referring to, so Kagome voiced it, "The professor? You're talking about the professor? Why does he . . . what's today?"

No sooner had the last words left Kagome's lips than did the image start to shift, at once becoming more clearly visible, but also troublingly transparent- the child's bones showing a back-lighted black through her skin, like an x-ray in negative. "I have to go," she said with a sad, quiet smile as the impression faded away as quickly as it had come.

Kagome watched in a mix of confusion and lingering sadness as the child turned and walked away, vanishing little by little with each step. What had that image meant? Taking a deep breath, she shook herself and pushed up to stand, turning on her heel to face the door of the pub once again.

She pulled the door open, not surprised at all to hear its hinges creaking horribly. The place was dully-lit and smoky, the mingling scents of old cigars and new cigarettes assaulting her nostrils for a brief moment as she stepped in. It was relatively empty as she swung her gaze around, searching for Professor Taisho only to find a bowed silver head at the bar.

The bartender made eye contact with her, nodding towards the man before him. Given the crisp, casually elegant mode of dress and the long, low-tied ponytail, she was pretty confident it was who she was looking for and not some other gray-haired man. She nodded back and he proceeded to gently nudge the arm of the man at the bar as she began crossing the room.

Slowly the professor's head swiveled to look over at her. Amber eyes lingered on hers for only a moment before starting to dig in his pockets and produce his wallet, fumbling with it as he tried to pull out bills. Holding in a sigh, Kagome reached out and gently extracted it from his hands.

"What's he owe you?" she asked the bartender, shaking her head at the professor's uncharacteristically child-like behavior at the moment- screw The Thief, _alcohol_ was a demon. The man gave her a number, to which she could only blink wide eyes at Professor Taisho for a long moment, again shaking her head as she opened his wallet and pulled out only enough to cover the tab and a decent tip.

Grabbing the professor's hand, she hoisted his arm over her shoulder, ignoring his grumpy instance that he could walk just fine on his own. As she turned away, the bartender called, "Hey, lady."

"Hmm?"

"Next time . . . just let your husband drink at home, okay?" Kagome tried to keep the surprise out of her face as he continued, "No one that hits the bottle that hard should be out and about."

She forced a tiny, stiff smile. "Right, I'll . . . consider being more lenient in the future."

Turning away again, she walked the professor to the door; he didn't speak until they were opening it to step out onto the sidewalk. "He think's your my wife?" he murmured with a bit of a slur, "It was probably because of how you snatched my wallet, that's a very wife-thing to do."

Kagome bit her lip to keep from saying anything until she got him to the car. "If I ask why you're like this, would you even tell me?" she couldn't help that her tone was a little sour as she opened the passenger side door and just about let him fall into the seat- it was just too frustrating sometimes to be in love with someone so guarded.

He let his head roll back against the headrest and looked up at her, for a long moment pursing his lips ever so slightly. "Yes," he finally said, "_you_ I would tell."

_Would?_ Nodding to herself, she closed his door and rounded the car to climb into the driver's seat and start it up. "And . . . will you?"

The professor gave a slow, almost reluctant nod, giving her the impression that, as he'd said, it wasn't that he didn't want to tell _her,_but simply that it was something he didn't want to talk about. "I will, just . . . not here, not-" he looked down at himself- his clothing was only marginally rumpled, though she was already well aware that what was slightly unordered for any other man seemed unforgivably unkempt to Professor Taisho- and then gestured vaguely at his face, "not like _this_."

"Okay," she thought about the next words, thought about how very bad the situation could become, only after they'd spilled from her mouth, "than what's your house address? I'll get you home; get some black coffee in you."

Had she really just invited herself to Taisho Sesshomaru's house?

The professor only seemed to notice the reminder that he needed to be sobered up in a mildly unpleasant way. He gave her his address, not terribly surprised when they drove the rest of the distance in silence. It truly wasn't that he didn't want to tell her- it was better she learn now than later, after all- it was simply still such a painful subject, but then, perhaps telling _her_, telling one that had come to mean so much to him, might ease it for him just a little.

The drive was a good twenty minutes, taking Kagome into a nice, suburban district that looked like it rolled up its sidewalks at nine P.M. every evening. In a way, that was good, no one would be up and about to see her ushering a sloppy-drunk Taisho Sesshomaru into his house. She diligently kept her thoughts on her driving, overanalyzing every turn, every instance of hitting the brakes, double-checking every intersection for street signs, to keep herself from thinking about that little girl, from wondering what had happened to her.

What did black bones even mean? Not . . . black_ened_, no, so it wasn't a fire . . . . And the way they were almost fluorescently lit from behind somehow reminded her of something being-

"Higurashi, stop the car."

"Huh?" Dammit- even for all of her instance that she wouldn't think about it, she'd gotten lost in wondering over that ghost.

"We're here, you can pull over."

"Oh, uh sorry." She chided herself inwardly as she found a suitable parking spot and pulled in- realizing that it wasn't just her ghostly encounter earlier, but also that she was perhaps a little nervous over the idea of being alone with Taisho Sesshomaru in _his_house.

Approximately fifteen, unnervingly quiet, minutes later she had him settled on a chair in his pointedly Spartan living room and nursing his first cup of coffee. Aside from the black velvet sofa, bare coffee table and computer desk with an uncomfortable looking chair accompanying it, there were shelves lined with everything from dusty old leather-bound books to antique knick-knacks to some pretty recent DVDs. In the center of the widest row of shelves cabinet doors rested, conspicuously shut . . . at least, conspicuously to her, as Kagome couldn't take her eyes off of it for a long moment.

He caught the direction of her gaze, nodding slowly to himself as he took another long sip of bitter coffee. "Myoga really never told you?"

Blinking a few times in an attempt to make herself focus, she took a seat on the far end of the sofa and turned to face him, shaking her head at him. "No, he said it was your secret to tell and you would tell me when you were ready to. If you'd really rather not, it's okay . . . ."

Frowning at her, he once more began fishing in his pocket with his free hand to pull out his wallet and set it on the coffee table between them. "Open it."

Blue eyes darted from the wallet to the professor's face and back again. "Why?"

She could tell from the meager change in expression that the slowly sobering man was just barely refraining from rolling his eyes at her. "Must you always be difficult?"

"I . . ." she took a deep breath, letting it out slowly and did as instructed. "Why?"

He looked away from her then, fixing his gaze unblinkingly on the far wall. "Check behind my driver's license."

Furrowing her brow, she lifted his wallet and dug a finger behind the card, slowly and delicately pulling out a square bit of laminated newspaper that had been hidden there. She set the wallet down again, feeling cold in the pit of her stomach the moment her eyes skimmed over the printed words for the briefest second.

Her eyes shot up to lock on the professor's face, despite that he was still staring off. "It's," she paused to clear her throat, "it's an obituary," she murmured, unable to bring herself to get further than that.

"Read it, go on," he said in a level, emotionless-sounding whisper before draining the rest of his mug in a long sip.

Forcing a gulp down her throat, Kagome looked back at the clipping in her hand, reading off today's date, seven years ago. She went silent for a long moment, willing her eyes to keep moving along the printed lines, even though they didn't seem to want to and could not help reading the next words aloud in a halting, trembling voice. "T-Taisho Rin, seven years old . . . laid to rest by her mother and father," she paused again, her breath catching in her throat, but he picked up the words for her, having read the tiny scrap of paper over so many times that had it not been laminated it would have fallen to bits years ago.

"Laid to rest by her mother and father, Uindo Kagura and Taisho Sesshomaru." He didn't raise his eyes to hers, fixing them numbly on the carafe as he refilled his mug for another long swig. "Every year on _this_ night I get rotten, stinking drunk because I _still_ can't face the fact that it was on _this_ night that my daughter died."


	32. What Time Won't Heal

**Chapter Thirty-Two**

What Time Won't Heal

He held up a placating hand, taking another sip of his coffee with the other. "Let me preface this by saying," he muttered as he set the mug down, still not meeting her gaze, "I wasn't lying that night on the dig, when I implied that I'd never really been in love. I think the worst place to start this off would be with a misunderstanding."

Kagome didn't quite know what to say to that- would it belittle what he was about to tell her to question that statement? Her hesitant silence must've spoken just as clearly, because he gave a slow nod as certainly as if she had asked.

"Why would someone as sensible as Professor Taisho have a child with someone he didn't love?" He mused aloud.

She blinked hard and lowered her gaze, resting her eyes on her fingers as they fidgeted, nervous and restless, in her lap. "I didn't say that."

"You didn't have to, I know it's what you were _thinking_ because it is the same question I would have in your place." He reached out blindly, settling his large, warm hand over both of hers to still their motions. "It's alright, Kagome. I'm telling you this because I think you deserve to know, not because I feel that you're forcing it out of me. Here . . . ."

Sesshomaru allowed his voice to trail off as he stood up from his seat and disappeared into the kitchen, returning with a second mug and a sugar bowl. "We met as grad-students, not really friends at first, but because we were both intellectuals we traveled in the same circles. We each did things because they were logical and sensible, emotion rarely entered into decision making," he explained in a low tone as he poured some coffee for her and pushed the mug and sugar bowl toward her.

It was only after she began fixing her coffee- with noticeably trembling fingers- that he went on. "When we began dating, it wasn't that it was something that neither of us wanted, strictly speaking, it was because we were compatible and we didn't hate being around one another." He gave a light shrug. "It was really the best one could hope for when they wanted to do the sensible, socially proper thing, but didn't want a relationship that would interfere with both of us focusing on our careers. We both _knew_ that being in a commitment would keep distractions of the heart at bay."

Kagome's hand halted in its ascent of bringing her mug to her lips. "I . . . I think by now you would know a person can't control their heart that way."

Just then for a brief moment he turned his head, meeting her gaze. "Yes, I _now_ understand the flaw in that logic, but I didn't then, and it really never came up. Kagura and I . . ." his brow furrowed ever so lightly as he searched for a clear way to explain it, "like I said, emotion rarely entered into our decisions, we were compatible with one another and though there . . . wasn't truly any sort of 'spark,' we each recognized that we were attractive enough individuals to make things work. We took steps in our relationship when it seemed the appropriate time to do so, nothing more. When Kagura became pregnant, it was a bit of a surprise."

"So . . ." Kagome ventured in a whisper, "you did the sensible thing and offered to marry her?"

He gave a sad, self-deprecating little chuckle. "Neither of us wanted her to not have the child, and therefore it made sense to consolidate incomes, as well as to have both parents in the child's life more certainly than being separate would. Logically, if we could not love each other, than at least we could remain friends who were capable of putting the child's interests and wellbeing above our own and that seemed better than letting what was supposed to be a blessing turn us against one another by making us think one of us was better as a parent than the other, as such situations often do.

"We were married, Rin was born . . . and things were blessedly normal for a long while. She was so young that she didn't have the capacity for understanding that mommy and daddy sleeping in different bedrooms was out of the ordinary, really it seemed the only thing that separated _our_ living arrangement from a 'loving' marriage."

Sesshomaru lifted his mug to his lips for a long sip, keeping his gaze locked on the cup even as he lowered his hand to hold it on the very edge of the table. "At first, she grew up like any other child, but when she turned four we noticed she seemed to halt there. She didn't grow an inch or put on a single pound in the year between her fourth and fifth birthdays, so we started bringing her around to all sorts of specialists, or at least we were going to- leave no stone unturned and all that. As it turned out, we ended up canceling most of them because the diagnosis was stumbled across rather quickly."

Kagome set her cup down, crossing arms beneath her breasts to keep herself from shivering. "What was wrong with her?" Gods, her voice was barely even audible.

"She had a type of bone cancer. Very rare, very aggressive . . . within a year she was a full time resident of the children's hospital and confined to her bed." His gaze narrowed briefly, as though he was angry at the memories themselves. "We took turns staying with her, neither of us really wanted to leave her to go to work . . . somehow those things that had been so important to us once had become utterly meaningless. Without Rin, _none_ of it meant a thing."

He paused for a long while and Kagome turned her head to look over at him. She watched the way he reflexively forced a gulp down his throat once, twice . . . the way he opened his mouth and closed it again a few times, unable to voice anything more. Nodding to herself, she stood and stepped slowly toward him. He watched her mutely as she lowered herself to kneel beside his chair and leaned her head toward him, resting her cheek against the back of his hand.

"If you don't want to go on, it's really okay," she murmured, lightly curling a hand around his calf.

"It isn't that," he replied, his voice level and a bit thickened with unshed tears. "It's simply that I haven't spoken on it in so long, I never thought I'd have reason to, either."

"If you're sure," she turned her head to look up at him, "take your time, I'm not going anywhere."

It seemed a long while passed as they simply sat in strained silence before he could go on, but finally he nodded, picking up where he'd left off. "We didn't have a choice about going back to work- her treatments had to be paid for, after all. It was like . . . every time I went to see her I was so happy to just be around her, but I was also dying inside because I _knew_ each day that passed was one less that she'd be in my life."

Kagome listened mutely, blinking back tears as her eyes strayed to the closed cabinet doors once more. In a distant corner of her mind, she made the connection- cancer, treatments . . . . Wasn't chemo-therapy a type of radiation treatment for cancer patients?_Black, back-lighted bones- like an x-ray in negative . . . . _That quick image of the child's bones made sense now. She'd thought the ghost was Rin the moment the professor explained the meaning of today, but now she was positive.

"Every time I walked through the hospital," he went on, his voice betraying an edge of time-honed numbness, "down every corridor, past every desk and room, I felt like everyone was watching me, all knowing how little time she had left . . . six months, three months, one month . . . . Finally the time came and went when she had only a week left and she was still with us." He shook his head, amber eyes glistening, but refusing to let the tears free to roll down his cheeks.

"We couldn't even be happy about that, though, we knew it would be false hope. We had made arrangements in that last month that whenever Rin did pass, we were going to have her buried that same night. It was illogical and highly unorthodox, but we knew neither of us could endure sitting through days of staring at her in a casket, of hearing condolences from people who had no comprehension of what we'd been through. Kagura had stopped going to work altogether to stay with her day and night, she was barely eating or sleeping. After about two weeks of that, I put my foot down and insisted she go home, get some rest and eat something more than a vending machine candy bar. It was the very next morning- she was on her _way_ back to the hospital- that," he paused for a long time, drawing in a deep, shuddering breath and letting it out slowly, his eyes drifting closed, "that was when Rin left us."

Kagome was afraid to move, even to lift her hand to wipe the tears from her cheeks. She wanted him to stop, wanted him not to have to feel this pain anymore, but she knew that would never be possible and she knew he wasn't telling this tale just for her sake, but for his own as well, that he needed to simply let it out.

"I was there with her, holding her hand the moment she died, but Kagura . . . she blamed me for sending her away, said it was my fault her little girl died without her there." Sesshomaru distracted himself for just a moment, lightly picking at a lock of hair that had fallen across his lap and turning it in his fingers. "It was perhaps a week later that she handed me divorce papers," he gave a slight shrug, "the one thing that had bound us together as husband and wife was gone, so I immediately obliged Kagura's wish. She accepted a job in . . . Holland, I think; she couldn't be around anything that reminded her of Rin or me. She couldn't make herself not hate me for what I'd stolen from her, she said."

She was split down the middle about that. She couldn't imagine ever hating Taisho Sesshomaru for _anything,_ but then she loved him in a way that Kagura never had . . . and she couldn't say with complete, unerring certainty that she wouldn't feel the same way, at least for a time, had she been put through what that poor woman had endured.

"Is . . . is that when you met Myoga?" she asked, managing to find her voice only to have it squeak out in a choked, shaking whisper.

"No, not right away," at some point- neither of them were exactly sure when- he'd given into gently trailing the tips of his fingers over her hair. "A year of my life slipped by, I went to work, came home and it was all on autopilot, the only thing I could ever remember was thinking what Rin's expression would be if I brought home a picture of this artifact or that one to show her, or wondering what kind of dessert she would have asked for at that restaurant I'd been forced into going to with my colleagues. I don't think she ever cared about the items, themselves; she was at that bedtime-story-age and got swept up in the stories I'd tell about the people who'd crafted them . . . . Sometimes, I even thought I could sense her, still lingering around me somehow. That's when I met that tiny old codger."

He gave just a hint of a half-grin then, giving Kagome the feeling that it was happy memory and it was an oddly heartwarming thing in the wake of such a tragic story. "I was attending a lecture one of my colleagues was giving on ancient spiritual practices versus modern scientific techniques. Of course, I wasn't paying much attention to what was being said, I was still neck-deep in mourning and self-pity . . . but," his barely-there grin spread just a hint, "I distinctly remember hearing this wordless, grumbling scoff nearby every few minutes. It was as everyone was filing out that I bumped into this tiny elderly man. He looked at me like we knew each other from somewhere and said he needed to speak with me. I tried to push him off, saying I didn't have time, but then he said it was about the 'little girl with the big, brown eyes'.

"We'd never placed a picture with the obituary, like some families do, and that phrasing- there was no way this man could know that . . ." he seemed to freeze for a moment, all but forcing himself to continue, "that was what I called her. Daddy's little girl with the big brown eyes, some fathers just say things like that, but that was my rather long-winded nickname for her. I felt I had no choice but to hear this man out.

"He proceeded to tell me that Rin had yet to move on, and that the reason was _me_. I didn't want to believe that, I wanted to believe that if she hadn't moved on yet, it was because she wasn't ready to go. He said I was keeping her here, my inability to let go was holding her to this life. Even as young as she was, she was so strong and she felt she couldn't leave me while I so clearly needed her here. I came to realize that he was right. I didn't_ want_ to admit it, but even though I was there with her when she died, I never really got to say goodbye to her. He performed a ritual . . . all manner of incense and candles and . . . gods awful smelling stuff hung in the air. It allowed me to enter an 'altered' state of consciousness so that I could perceive her as clearly as he did."

His brow furrowed, his hand stilling in Kagome's hair as he stared off again. "I wasn't prepared for it. She looked as she had in her last days, but I spoke to her- told her it was time to go and that daddy would be okay alone, that I had to learn to go on without her. It broke my heart, but as I said those words, I knew they were true. And, I know this may sound strange, but, the more I allowed myself to feel the truth of what I was saying, the healthier she began to look . . . until she looked like she never been ill a day in her life. And then she was gone."

Silence fell between them for a long moment then. Kagome couldn't move for what felt like an eternity, but finally she stood, taking careful, deliberate steps to the closed cabinet. ". . . May I?" She asked in a murmur, looking over her shoulder at him.

He met her gaze and simply held it quietly, making it seem as though he wasn't going to answer, but then he stood up as well and crossed the room. Halting to stand behind her, he reached around Kagome's shoulders to pull open the doors, revealing the gilded framed picture of Rin amongst the bits of long-disused shrine- in a way it made sense, if to cling too tightly was to bind the spirits here, then perhaps constant homage wasn't as respectful of a practice as everyone thought. _He probably prayed for her every single day_, that voice in the back of her mind whispered, letting her gaze wander over it all.

She couldn't help reaching out to trail the tips of her fingers gently over Rin's picture. "I've seen her," she murmured, giving a sad, understanding smile to the huge brown eyes staring back at her.

"What?" Sesshomaru's brow furrowed in disbelief.

"Outside of the pub, just before I went in to get you. I . . . I _spoke_ to her. She told me you needed me to be your strength today."

". . . I don't understand," there was an edge in his voice that suggested he was going to get angry if this didn't start making sense very soon. "She moved on, she had to have . . . ."

"I don't think she didn't move on, Sesshomaru." Kagome turned slowly to look up at him. "I think she was a very strong person and that somehow . . . she left a piece of herself behind, just enough to watch over you until-"

"Until someone like you came into my life," he muttered, seeing the acknowledgement in her eyes, though she couldn't muster up a nod. "So, now even that bit of her is gone?"

She gave a hard blink, unable to hold his gaze for a brief second. "I think so."

Sesshomaru uttered a short, mournful laugh as he shook his head. "To think I had a piece of her with me all along. Even though_ I_was the one that said those words to make her move on, I understood quickly that whenever it came to _this_ day I wanted to take that all back. I just wanted . . . I just _want_ my daughter back and I'm so sorry that I can't be happy that she's moved on."

Kagome couldn't manage a word, feeling tears for him- for his loss and his pain- clogging her throat, so simply reached up, sliding her arms around his neck and held him. For a long moment he didn't budge, but after a moment he gave in, slipping his arms around her and leaning down to bury his face against her throat as he- for the first time since the day she'd passed- silently and wretchedly sobbed for his daughter.

She had no idea how long she stood there, holding him, crying with him, but eventually his shoulders stilled and the hiccupping little sounds she was making quieted. Tentatively she pulled back to look up at him and thought that maybe, if she wasn't mistaken, it appeared that he was at peace. And- again, if she wasn't mistaken, and she _really _hoped she wasn't- there was something in his eyes that said that she was the cause of that peace.

Kagome was acutely aware of the sensation of one of his hands sliding up along the side of her body, up over her throat and the line of her jaw to cup her face. Her eyelids drifted closed entirely of their own accord as he leaned down to press his mouth over hers. She couldn't help savoring the feel of her knees going just a little weak, forcing her to lean into him as he traced her lips the tip of his tongue.


	33. Crossing Boundaries

**Chapter Thirty-Three**

Crossing Boundaries

A delicious shiver ran through her body as he sighed into her waiting mouth. She didn't know if it was a sigh of longing, or resign- that he was simply no longer able to fight what was between them- nor did she care which it was. Kagome forced her wobbly legs straight to stand on her toes, eagerly darting her tongue between his lips; she could not have cared less that he tasted of the unpleasant mixture of alcohol and black coffee. This was Taisho Sesshomaru, that alone made the true taste unimaginably sweet and pure to her.

She savored the feel of his strong, warm hands sliding over her, low to cup her bottom and pull her tightly against him then upward, one hand pressing against the small of her back with splayed fingers. As his other hand moved under her arm and continued forward, slipping between their bodies to delicately grasp at her breast, she couldn't help the pleasant little tremor that shot through her, setting off that sweet, throbbing pulse between her thighs.

He broke the kiss, his breath escaping in short, ragged bursts as he dragged his lips across her cheek, down the line of her jaw and lower still until he was nibbling eagerly at the side of her throat. Sesshomaru pulled his mouth away for only a moment then to shake his head . . . he couldn't be feeling that bothersome, instantaneous exhaustion again . . . . Not _now_.

Kagome felt the thundering pace of her heart still for a moment as he paused, but no sooner could she allow herself to think upon it than had his mouth returned, his teeth and tongue scraping and caressing the lobe of her ear, eliciting a small, pleading moan from her.

Too late did she feel the chill run up her spine.

"What have I awakened to, little priestess?" The Thief's voice murmured ever so softly in her ear.

She let that chill work its way into a full tremble, shaking through her limbs in a mix of fear and anger as she scrambled suddenly to pull away from him. "How dare you come out now! Do you even know what you just . . . ."

The way her words drifted off said it all, even as she struggled against his immovable arms, she _knew_ he was always aware- he_always_ knew. She froze at that realization, wide blue eyes locking on strangely pleasant-seeming gold ones.

"I know well what I interrupted," he confirmed, giving the faintest half-grin, releasing a hint of his power to curl around her, but didn't continue speaking until he saw her reaction- until her eyes clouded just a little, until the lids began to droop. "And it is good that I did."

"Wha-?" Kagome shook her head, fighting against the sudden arousal tickling over her skin, teasing at the most delicate bits of her flesh. "No, it isn't. How can you even say that? This moment was _all_ we had. Who knows how long it'll be before I can be with him like this again?"

Nah Rah Ku shook his head, ignoring easily that she was beginning to struggle against him once more as he began massaging the breast so thoughtfully already placed beneath his hand. "That is exactly why I had to interrupt." He licked his lips, lowering his face until his mouth was hovering just above hers, his power continuing to leak out of him and into her in a slow, steady pulse. "If I had not stopped him, he would have stopped himself. He would have pushed you away and closed himself off."

She could feel her body reacting to him- could feel that warm, embarrassing dampness between her legs begging her to respond to him. "You don't know that!"

"Do I not?" He began walking then, moving her with him, to the side and then back, around the furniture until he had her pinned against the wall. "He would have come to his senses and stopped and you know that. Not only this, but he would use this unguarded moment in the future as reason to keep you at arms' length, but that you know as well."

Kagome opened her mouth to protest, only to be cut off- as much by the hand that had been at her back shooting forward to press a finger to her lips as by the way he ground his pelvis against her, sending a reluctant surge of warm pleasure through her.

"Let us suppose that he did not stop . . . that he allowed himself this night with you." Once more he paused, slipping the hand from her mouth down, back along her side- continuing to ignore her feeble, and slowly waning, attempts to push at his chest- and down around the back of her thigh. He delighted in the vaguely startled look in her eyes, in how obvious it was that she had to fight to maintain her anger, as he lifted her leg and pulled it to rest over his hip. "He has revealed all that he is to you now . . . he would have laid with you and realized you are a virgin."

_He is right_, that little voice in the back of her mind admitted bitterly, her struggles ceasing in spite of herself.

"He was a husband and a father. He has lived through the death of his own child . . . so much more than mere time separates you; it is the experiences those years have brought you as well. You do not know this, but that difference in your years is one of the main factors in the distance he had once kept from you." The demon tipped his head to one side, keeping his gaze on hers. "When he came to understand that he was your first, do you really think that would not gnaw at him? That it would not simply be a reminder of how very far you still are from one another?"

She lowered her eyes, sinking her teeth painfully deep into her bottom lip. "Then . . . I can't . . . ." Kagome lifted them again, feeling tears threatening to swim in them- if it was true now, what was to stop it from being true in another few years when they would finally have the freedom to be together- and was dimly shocked to see what almost looked like compassion in Nah Rah Ku's eyes. "I don't know what to do."

And she was having _so_ much trouble thinking clearly- between her worries about Sesshomaru, The Thief's power rippling over her skin and his uncharacteristic kindness in this moment, she wasn't sure how to feel about anything.

He reached up, cupping her face with his hands and gently tipped her head forward, pressing his lips to her forehead before murmuring. "If you cannot give him this night with you . . . you can give him the memory of it."

He was only touching her face and yet it felt as though his fingers were caressing her everywhere, stroking over her limbs, teasing at her nipples, slipping between her legs even as he pressed his hips forward suddenly, forcing a violent shiver of ecstasy through her. She knew what he was saying- he'd mentioned this before, giving his moments with her to Sesshomaru as dreams . . . . The only man she ever wanted to be with _was_ Sesshomaru, but . . . if being with him this first time would only shove a wedge between them . . . .

And her body was aching with want already, pleading with her to give in, to let him do whatever he liked to her- everything he did felt good, after all. _No one will know but you two_, her mind whispered and she wondered if even her own thoughts were turning against her or trying to help her see the truth of the situation.

Her eyes drifted closed, then, understanding that there was no way to know which decision was the correct one. "And I won't be like the others?"

"Hmm?" was all he said as he feathered his lips over her eyelids and pulled back again.

"You won't kill me?"

He waited until she opened her eyes, until she was looking at him again. "I will never put an end to you, little priestess."

It seemed a few moments passed before he realized that she was giving in to him, yet the second that realization dawned in his expression he was already whipping her shirt up over her head and tossing it aside. He all but tore her bra off, eagerly lifting her breasts to his mouth.

Kagome let her head fall back, rolling against the wall behind her as he suckled at her nipple, catching it between his teeth and flicking his tongue over it until it became pebble-hard and then moving to the other one. He pulled back just long enough to remove his own shirt, but before she had even a second to appreciate the view he was on her again, pressing her body between the wall and his own as he once more raised her leg over his hip.

She choked out a surprised little moan as he began thrusting his hips forward against her, pushing his already hardened length between her thighs. For a moment, the fear shot through her- skittering and brief- on whether or not this would hurt. Wasn't it supposed to?

His hands grasped her hips, pulling her down against his movements, forcing coherent thought from her mind as her limbs reflexively wrapped around him, letting him support her weight. Every intake of breath pushed her hardened nipples tight against his chest, adding to the sweet, aching pulse between her legs.

"Would you like to move to someplace a bit more comfortable, little priestess?" He murmured, once more nibbling at her earlobe as he awaited her answer.

"N- no," she mumbled feeling that warm pressure beginning to build, "if . . . if there's any blood- virgins usually bleed at least a little, right- it'll . . . be easier to clean up here than on a bed."

"As you wish," he whispered, grinding against her harder, still, as he noticed her body starting to go taut.

Kagome closed her eyes, picturing Sesshomaru in front of her, Sesshomaru holding her and rocking against her. Nearly before she was ready for it the orgasm washed over her, tearing little, echoing moans from her throat. She didn't open her eyes again until it was ending, until her body was able to move again, rocking her in sharp, trembling motions against him.

Those golden orbs were glowing and she found herself dimly, distantly hoping that after tonight he would be sated enough that she would not see him for a while. She ignored that it felt wrong to think that way- that it seemed as though she was finally using him as much as he was using her. But if such was the case, than was there truly anything for her to feel guilty about, or did she simply have an overactive conscience?

Only after she stilled did he move back from her, allowing her to set her feet to the floor and steady herself before he disrobed her completely. It might have been a more embarrassing moment if she wasn't so acutely aware that he'd seen her stark naked before. Taking her hand, he guided her to lie on the floor, letting her watch him as he finished undressing himself.

Her heart skipped a beat as her gaze wandered over him- he looked exactly the same as he had that night so many months ago at the excavation site. She reminded herself, happily and perhaps even somewhat greedily, that this _was_ Taisho Sesshomaru's body . . . that someday when this was all over, what she was looking at now would be all hers- body, heart and soul.

Nah Rah Ku knelt beside her, slowly and delicately parting her legs. For a long moment, he simply stared at the bit of her he'd just exposed and Kagome couldn't help the blush flaring in her cheeks even after all this time. His gaze lifted, brushing over her form and finally lifting to lock on her face as he eased two fingers inside of her.

If it was possible, the mewling noise she made, the exquisite expression on her face made him only harder, still, as he withdrew his fingers nearly entirely and entered her again several times. She was so wet, so warm, so perfectly tight. The way she lifted her hips, raising her body of the floor to meet his fingers as they sank into her was utterly delicious- _he_ had schooled her in such wanton reactions.

He withdrew his fingers one final time, assuring himself that she was watching him as he slipped them into his mouth, knowing full well that she'd admonished him in the past for this very action. Her head seemed full of his power, full of what he brought about in her, she only watched as he sucked and lapped her wetness from his fingers, looking- if possible- to be only more aroused by it.

Kagome braced herself as he moved between her legs, carefully positioning himself. She couldn't help the little start her body gave as she felt the tip of his length push into her. He held himself there, laying over her and holding his weight above her on the support of one arm against the floor as he slid his other hand beneath her, cupping her bottom and lifting her just a little.

She cried out as he entered her entirely- he was slow and gentle in that first thrust, but the pain seared through her regardless, making her strangely aware that he was again letting his power ebb out of him, compensating for the pain he was causing. He seemed to freeze up then, simply staying inside of her for a long moment.

"What are you doing?" she asked in a trembling whisper, bringing her hands up under his arms to dig her nails into his back- something he apparently enjoyed, if the expression on his face was any indication- as she waited for the pain to subside.

"I do not wish for this to hurt you any more than is necessary." He withdrew slowly and entered again, just as deeply and only a fraction more quickly this time. "I am allowing your body to become accustomed to . . . having a man inside of it."

She gave a short nod, feeling the instinctive clenching of her body begin to loosen incrementally. He responded to this, moving into her a little faster with each stroke, his eyes on her face the entire time as though to gauge if she was still alright.

Almost to her disbelief the pain began to fade. At first matched, then overpowered, then replaced nearly completely by sweet, spiraling pleasure. She found her legs winding up around his hips, trying to press herself up against his thrusts. There was a fine tremor shaking through his body every now and again as he withdrew from her, that deep, animal-sound he made escaping him each time he thrust forward, burying himself as deep as he could get inside of her.

She pushed herself, forced her muscles to tighten- she wanted to know what it was like to come this way- and found the look in his eyes as he realized what she was doing to be both strangely satisfying and exhilarating. He helped her along, driving into her faster and harder, using his hand beneath her to hold her at just the right angle. Still she struggled to lift her hips even more, trying to get him even more deeply inside of her.

"Come for me, little priestess," he coaxed in a low, gravelly murmur.

Kagome couldn't help leaning up, biting into his shoulder in an attempt not to scream as the first moments of this orgasm tore through her. It was the same, and yet unlike anything he'd given her before. It was _too_ intense, the sweet, delicious warmth spiraling through her felt _too_ good, even as she wanted more, even as he continued thrusting into her in sharp, jerking strokes.

It was just as she thought her body would give out on her that it began to ebb, leaving her limbs exhausted and trembling. As weakened as she felt by it, her body was moving again, rocking against his thrusts, shuddering with each sweet, glimmering aftershock.

He was groaning and growling above her, sounding like some predatory thing in heat. Those glowing golden eyes bore down into hers as the jerking thrusting of his hips became frenzied and she realized with a dazed, pleasant start that he was about to come.

His hips surged forward in one final, hard and deliciously deep thrust and as he froze above her, he murmured softly, "And this is what you get for wishing to be with one who is _not _me."

Kagome nearly screamed as the markings and the gold light of his eyes faded, leaving a very confused looking Sesshomaru in his place- in mid-orgasm.

He collapsed on top of her, taking a moment to catch his breath before raising himself up on his elbows and staring down at her. She searched his face for a long moment, her bottom lip beginning to tremble, tears beginning to well up in her widened eyes.

Taisho Sesshomaru remembered nothing of this.

"Kagome . . ." he muttered in a groggy tone, looking surprised and concerned as he cupped a hand to her cheek.

She struggled to pull out from underneath him, shaking her head at herself- how could she be so stupid? How could she buy into what the demon had said, how kind he was being? All because he'd not lied to her before? She should have known that didn't mean he wasn't capable of it . . . .

She had just not expected _this._

Sesshomaru watched Kagome scramble away from him. She'd recognized the look on his face- she knew he'd blacked out, that he hadn't the faintest clue how they'd gotten from kissing to being naked on the floor in the middle of an orgasm.

Was it the alcohol? He'd known it wasn't all out of his system- not by far- but what else could it be?

"I'm . . ." she could barely speak for the tears clogging her throat as she hurried to throw her clothes back on, unable to meet his gaze- how could she think this would be so simple? He was probably thinking he was losing his mind and it was _her_ fault! "I'm so sorry, Sesshomaru."

He stood, ignoring that he was stripped bare and reached out toward her, catching her wrist gently. "What for?" Did she think she'd taken advantage of him?

"I just . . ." in that moment, her eyes did raise, but it was to fix on a spot behind him. Whatever she was looking at seemed to bolster her resolve and she extracted her wrist from his grasp, meeting his gaze as the tears finally broke free to run down her cheeks. "I am _so _sorry. I love you so much, Sesshomaru, and I just shouldn't have let this happen."

With that she had spun on her heel and dashed with an odd little limp out the door, slamming it behind her. Hardly in a fit state to follow her, he quickly began to get dressed, himself, but before he was nearly finished he heard that rickety beast of a car of hers start up and clunk its way down the street.

Hanging his head in a mix of frustration and utter confusion he simply dropped himself in a smooth, graceful motion to sit cross-legged on the floor. He clasped his hands in front of his mouth, propping his elbows on his knees and stared daggers at the wall for a long moment as he tried to remember the vaguest snippet of this lapse in time.

Nothing would come to him. Nothing, nothing, _nothing! _He slammed a fist to the floor in anger- she'd looked so . . . terrified. How could this happen? What had he done that was so terrible?

Sesshomaru turned his head, running his gaze over the area where he'd found himself lying on top of her. He nearly thought it a trick of the light when he saw the spots on the floor. Frowning, he inched closer to it for inspection before sitting back on his heels.

Blood . . . right where she'd been laying . . . no, not just where she'd been laying, but where they would have been _joined_. And that way she was walking, like it was causing her a little pain. He gave a pained groan and buried his face in his hands.

He'd taken the virginity of Higurashi Kagome- of the woman he loved more than his own life- and he couldn't even remember.


	34. Breaking Down

**Chapter Thirty-Four**

Breaking Down

Sango tried to banish the smile from her face as she crept through the corridor to her dorm, gently easing the key into the lock and turning the knob. Inching her way into the room, she turned immediately toward the door to silently push it shut.

"Hey, Kags? You awake?" She whispered over her shoulder before turning around- it was late, she knew Kagome was probably out cold, but the happy weight of Miroku's promise ring around her finger was prompting her to jolt her friend awake so someone could share in her joy.

That was when she heard it. Low, muffled . . . yet unmistakably the sound of sniffling. Sango did finally turn, then, to see a dark, crumpled shape at the head of Kagome's bed.

"Kags?" she murmured uncertainly, making her way blindly to the lamp and switching it on.

Kagome didn't move. Her back was to Sango, her form hunched forward, as though she was curled into a ball around something. The long, dark waves of hair that were almost always smooth and gleaming were snarled and mussed, drawing even more attention to the occasional trembling shudder that rocked through the girl's small, rounded shoulders.

She still hadn't answered, causing Sango all the more worry. Gently she lowered herself to sit on the edge of the bed, reaching out to touch Kagome's arm, but stopping and pulling her hand back before making contact- Kagome hadn't budged, if she was so lost in whatever she was feeling that she hadn't heard her, than Sango didn't want to frighten her.

"Kags . . . ? What happened?" she ventured in a whisper, since the usual question people always asked in these moments- _are you okay_- seemed mind bogglingly stupid when the person was already in a huddled mass of sniffles and shivering.

A long moment passed, Sango feeling as though she was holding her breath the entire time, before Kagome shifted on the bed to face her. The girl was a wretched sight, hugging a pillow so tightly that if it needed oxygen she'd have surely strangled it to death by now, the whites of her eyes beet red, her nose nearly the same shade. Her cheeks appeared dry, but Sango could only guess this was because the actual tears had stopped flowing some time ago, leaving the girl to dry, hiccupping sobs.

Frowning sadly she reached out, taking hold of the bottom of the pillow and attempting to wedge it out of Kagome's grasp. No sooner did she have it worked free than did Kagome throw her arms out, wrapping them around Sango and burying her face against her friend's neck. In a frail, stuttering whisper, Kagome told Sango everything that had happened that night.

". . . How could you listen to a word he said?" Sango asked with a shrug, soothingly rubbing Kagome's back, but unable to voice anything other than her doubts- she knew she couldn't understand what any of this was like for Kagome, but how could she think something so trivial would scare the professor away?

But then again . . . Kagome and Professor Taisho were heavy thinkers . . . maybe to people like them it wasn't so trivial.

Kagome managed to muster up a shrug of her own. "It just . . . it made sense at the time. I know that I _should have_ recognized that he was manipulating me, but I just didn't. It was like . . ." she pulled away, wiping the back of her hand across her nose and giving a small, mournful smile, "I've always been intimidated by how far apart we really are, ya know?"

Sango remained silent, letting her suddenly upraised eyebrows answer for her.

Kagome shook her head, trying to explain it anywhere but in her head and have it still make sense. "Well . . . I was. From the moment I realized I liked him I was scared half-to-death. I mean, student and teacher? And not just _any_ teacher . . . _doctor_ and esteemed professor in the field I'm hoping to make my career in? He's like a decade and a half older than me, and then I find out . . ." she paused, fighting a spontaneous upwelling of tears as she once more thought over Rin's tragic story. "I know- and I _knew- _that he'd had a whole life before we'd even met, but knowing how much that life had put him through? Knowing what he's experienced and suffered through . . . and lost," her voice cracked just a little on that last word.

A long moment of strained quiet passed before Kagome could continue. "All these things that separate us suddenly became highlighted for me and the idea that letting Sesshomaru realize these same things might push him away just broke my heart. I was terrified of losing what's been building between us."

Kagome lowered her eyes, wrapping her arms around her sides to hug herself tightly. "To have your heart tangled up in something that's . . . so potent, but somehow so incredibly fragile . . . . It's the most terrifying feeling in the world, Sans."

Sango nodded reluctantly- she supposed that from Kagome's point of view and lack of experience in matters of the heart, the whole thing did make a skewed sort of sense, and whatever the demon had been doing while pointing all of that out to her probably hadn't helped her to think clearly in the least. "I understand . . . sort of. You have to know, you make supporting your choices very difficult for me, sometimes."

A mirthless chuckle bubbled out of Kagome at that. "I'm not asking you to support what happened. It was a bad decision, I couldn't see how bad at the time, but I know _now_. I'm asking for you to help me get past it."

"Only one way to do that . . . well," Sango shifted her head side to side in a _sort-of _nod, "two, but the second we've been planning to do forever, anyways. First . . . you're going to have to talk to Professor Taisho about what really happened."

Blue eyes rolled. "You know why I can't do that! If he finds out, the demon will know and we don't know what Nah Rah Ku would do to him."

"Yeah, well, as true as that is, _none_ of this has been fair to the professor, and you know it," Sango ignored the stricken look that came over Kagome's face then, forcing herself to continue as she wedged her cellphone out of her pocket. "You can't let him go on thinking he hurt you and you can't go on carrying all these burdens the demon's hoisted on you from day one."

Kagome watched Sango punch in a number and set the phone to her ear. She hadn't wanted to tell Sango about what had happened . . . no, that wasn't really true. She hadn't wanted to tell _anyone_. She was so ashamed, so mortified and miserable, but she also knew that she had not the faintest clue of how to get out of the emotional hole she'd dug herself into on her own. The idea of finally being able to somehow share the entire mess with Sesshomaru was riddled with both peaceful relief and crippling anxiety.

There was always the chance he might believe her. Whether he did or not, however, the idea that he might never look at her the same way again tore and clawed painfully at her heart.

"Miroku?" Sango said in a hurried tumble of sound. "We're skipping classes tomorrow."

Kagome went wide-eyed at this bit of news, but before she could voice any objection Sango was waving a dismissive hand in her vague direction.

"Kags needs to see Myoga . . . like A-S-A-P. Hmm? No, you don't need to go with us, but I guess it couldn't hurt."

Stifling a groan, Kagome let her chin tip toward the ceiling as she fell backwards onto her bed. It had been difficult enough letting Sango in on what had happened, but with Miroku tagging along, there was going to be very little chance of keeping it from him, too. And after that uncomfortable chat in the coffee shop a few weeks ago, she was pretty certain there was no way she wouldn't get an earful from him. Not that she probably didn't deserve it, she just wasn't sure she could feel any worse about this whole mess than she already did.

Sango hung up, sliding her phone onto the night table and turned, only to entirely misinterpret Kagome's dramatic, if silent, response. "It's okay, we'll help you through this," she said with a gentle supportive smile as she reached out to pat Kagome on the knee.

Kagome only managed another groan, rolling onto her side and closing her eyes. She was going to make at least a meager attempt at getting some sleep. Even if they were- and she cringed at the thought- ditching classes tomorrow, it was already well into the wee hours of the morning and she didn't want to show up on Myoga's door step looking like death warmed over.

It seemed a minor relief that she had been forcibly spared from sitting in Professor Taisho's classroom tomorrow, though. She had no idea how she was going to manage being so close to him . . . having to see his face, to listen to his voice after what had happened. That constant, acute awareness of how badly he must be hurting right now, but not yet being able to do a thing about it . . . .

The very thought made her want to bolt; the unpleasant and distasteful mixture of pain and fear made her want to never have to face him again. But he deserved better than that from her.

She hoped, as the stubborn first stirrings of sleep began to pull at her, that Myoga would have something- anything- that would aid her.

* * *

Sesshomaru watched the students filing out of the classroom, ignoring the occasional glances in his direction. How could he blame them? Who could help staring? He knew he made for a miserable sight. There were bags under his eyes from not being able to scrape together the tiniest amount of sleep last night; his usually stern expression was notably more severe than usual. He didn't need a mirror to confirm that- he could feel the constant, downward tug at the corners of his mouth at nearly every moment.

Finally alone in the room his frown only deepened, amber gaze landing unerringly on Higurashi Kagome's usual seat. He hadn't noticed that Sango was absent . . . it had barely registered on him that Miroku wasn't in today, either.

Higurashi Kagome, who'd only ever missed his class to tend to her grandfather's passing, was absent.

He sat down heavily in his seat, resting his elbows on his desk to steeple his hands in front of his mouth. He wasn't sure he could blame her, though. Maybe she needed some time. Yes, that made sense- it hurt, but it made sense. After last night, the idea that she didn't want to face him _right now_ was much more soothing and palatable than the alternative. That alternative . . . . His eyes drifted closed as he forced an uncomfortable, pained gulp down his throat.

That alternative was that she _never_ wanted to face him again.


	35. Untitled

**Chapter Thirty-Five**

Untitled

Kagome felt as though they'd been waiting forever by the time Myoga tottered back into his apartment. They had arrived on his door step unannounced, but in that unnerving way that the old man had, he didn't seem very surprised. He'd simply pursed his lips in thought for a long moment after she'd explained the reason behind her visit . . . or, at least a _neatly edited_ version of the reason.

The demon had overstepped his bounds, leaving Sesshomaru in his place with no recollection of how he'd gotten there and the only way to protect the poor, victimized man's sanity would be to somehow be able to tell him what was going on. Neatly edited. That she had to do this in a way that wouldn't alert the demon went without saying, Myoga already knew that such a thing would only endanger Sesshomaru.

He'd told them to wait for a moment and shuffled out of the apartment. A moment turned into five minutes and then five became ten, until Kagome, Miroku and Sango found they'd been waiting for Myoga to return for half an hour. During their long, strained and silent wait Kagome could feel Miroku's gaze shifting to rest on her every now and again. She and Sango had not shared with him exactly what the demon had done to finally _light a fire under Kagome's ass_- as Sango so eloquently phrased it- and he hadn't pressed the point after seeing how upset Kagome instantly became at the faintest hint that he was going to try to force an answer out of her.

Given the nature of her _relationship_, though she dreaded to refer to it like that, with Nah Rah Ku she was pretty certain Miroku had some idea of what _might_ have transpired, but she wasn't about come out and say it, nor was she of a mind to confirm or deny anything. She'd spent the entire day and most of the night before mentally kicking herself for being so blindingly stupid, she didn't think she could cope with a verbal lashing. It was as true now as it had been last night that she felt she probably deserved one, but she simply didn't think she could handle it- that she'd break down and start bawling like a little girl before Miroku even got two sentences into his rant.

Finally the door was creaking open and the tiny, stooped old man was shuffling his way back into the apartment. He made a beeline for Kagome and, with very little presentation or ceremony whatsoever, shoved an old- yet obviously ornately painted and meticulously care for at one time- tin into her hands.

"Um," she began, feeling an odd little tingle from the press of the worn surface against her fingertips, but was unable to find anything to actually say.

"It's a tea," Myoga informed her, turning on his heel and proceeding to putter around his house, speaking to her over his shoulder. "He must begin drinking it within five minutes of being brewed. Have him sip it- it will draw out the time you have. You will have approximately one hour to explain what you need to him, after which you risk anything you say slipping past his defenses and being heard by the demon."

"Why didn't you just give her the tea for him months ago?" Miroku asked sourly, for a moment seeming to forget his typical respect for his elders. "You would have saved her _and_ the professor a shit load of turmoil."

Myoga's head whipped around, fixing Miroku with a single, glaring beady eye over his shoulder. "I am a spiritual adviser, not an apothecary, boy!" the old man snapped in a rushed, creaky tumble of words, immediately causing all three gazes of the young people in the room to regard the feisty little being cautiously.

"My knowledge of herbs," he went on smoothly, as though he'd not just had an outburst, "is extensive, granted, but it is not limitless. However, there is a fellow on the fourth floor who had made his living as an herbalist. I was conferring with him. Be aware, this will only work for Sesshomaru because of how he excels at compartmentalizing. The walls he's built around separate emotions and trains of thought are utilized- and fortified- by the mixture in that tea. Anything you tell him while the herbs are active will be clouded to the demon's perception, should he try to delve into those thoughts."

"So I have an hour?"

Myoga gave a slow, solemn nod, echoing, "An hour."

Kagome frowned sadly, lowering her gaze. "Ya know . . . when you don't know what to say to someone an hour seems like all the time in the world, but like this . . ." her voice trailed off for a moment as she shook her head, she could feel Sango's and Miroku's eyes on her, needing to force herself to go on. "I have so much I want to say to him. Not just about what's been happening to him, but _why_. Why it chose _him_, why I couldn't tell him. I want to make him understand. I want-" she cut herself off, sinking her teeth into her suddenly trembling lower lip.

Sango pushed up from the saggy cushions of the sofa and stepped quietly over the Kagome, cautiously raising a hand to rub her friend's back soothingly. "You want what, sweetie?"

It took the passing of a long, pained moment before Kagome could lift her watery gaze to Sango's, whispering brokenly, "I want him to not hate me."

The pause was short, but still obvious as Sango forced a small gulp down her throat and shook her head. "I'm sure he won't."

A mirthless, miserable chuckle bubbled out of Kagome at that. "Liar. You have no way of knowing he won't . . . ." She turned then, sliding her arms around Sango's waist and hugging her tightly, "But thanks for saying it."

* * *

Sesshomaru looked up from his newspaper, a flicker of irritation in his amber eyes as they fixed on the door. He wanted to ignore it. He'd finally gotten his head on straight sometime between the end of Kagome's scheduled class and the time the day's courses were finished. Well . . . not entirely, but he'd managed to stuff his feelings away for now, and that was close enough.

It had also helped that he had noticed that Sango and Miroku were both missing as well. Perhaps that was a good thing- didn't it mean it was possible that they were attending to something else entirely? That it was possible that it was only coincidental timing that made it appear obvious that she had skipped class to avoid him?

He had returned home- though it was difficult to be here and not trouble over the few and scattered memories from last night- and was at last settled in with a cup of coffee and the paper, as was his daily ritual to wind down from his day. The man was barely two sips and half an article in when his doorbell rang. He'd not bothered to as much as glance up from the printed words before him.

But then it rang again. He was no longer reading, but staring at the page as he considered ignoring it entirely. True that his car was right out front, but maybe if he didn't answer it whoever it was would assume he simply went for a walk or something. Yet again, it rang. This person was very persistent, he observed with a frown as he'd at last lifted his unhappy gaze to the door.

"One moment," he called out as he stood up and- despite the sore inclination to throw it down- set the paper down on the table beside his barely touched coffee.

He couldn't help pinching the bridge of his nose between thumb and forefinger tiredly as he strode across the living room, slowly shaking his head as he unlocked the door and turned the knob. There was little time to be dumbfounded at who he found staring up at him on his doorstep, because nearly as soon as he muttered her name in surprise she was already pushing past him and making a beeline for his kitchen.

"No, no coffee now," she said hurriedly, scooping up the mug as she passed the table.

Sesshomaru watched her over his shoulder as he closed the door before turning on his heel and following her through the house. By the time he reached the kitchen she was dumping out his coffee mug in the sink. He tipped his head to one side, leaning his hip against the entryway and folding his arms across his chest as she proceeded to rinse out the mug and then fill the kettle from his stove top with water to set it to boil.

"Kagome . . ." he said evenly, waiting for her to say something.

Even from where he stood behind her it was obvious the way she hung her head before she turned toward him and fished a small, antique-looking tin from her purse and set it on the counter beside his mug. "Sesshomaru," she said back, forcing a small gulp down her throat, "we need to talk."


	36. Realization

**Chapter Thirty-Six**

Realization

Sesshomaru watched Kagome storm into his house, breeze past him and putter around his kitchen with the same sort of quiet, uncertain observance one normally reserved for coming face to face with a wild animal in the woods. She didn't speak after announcing that they needed to talk, that seemed the strangest thing- the expression on her face told him she was blatantly ignoring his presence as she went about brewing a pot of gods-awful smelling tea.

"You're a tad quiet for someone who wants to talk," he mused nearly under his breath, but her small shoulders tensed at his words, easily telling him that she'd heard him perfectly.

She didn't turn to face him, only tapping the tin she'd extracted the tea mixture from and shook her head, "I will have plenty to say," her voice sounded a bit hollow- this troubled him as he knew that she was usually so passionate about even the littlest things- making him aware that she was not at all pleased with whatever it was she had to tell him, "but not until the tea is ready."

"Is this about what happened last night?"

The lifeless tone of his voice tore at her, but she refused to stop what she was doing, needing to focus on something else_, anything_else. _My gods_, she thought sadly, _had it _really_ only been less than a day ago?_

When she didn't answer he found himself wondering briefly and facetiously- at least he hoped he could think of the possibility in a light manner- if she wasn't going to poison him, but she quickly held up a hand, explaining, "It's from Myoga."

This gave Sesshomaru pause. He couldn't begin to imagine what on earth the antiquated spiritualist had to do with anything, but the mention was _just _off-putting and attention grabbing enough to snatch away any possibly humorous, life-threatening scenarios. Having little choice about the matter, he simply waited until she was finished.

She poured a cup- but only one he noticed- and retreated past him, back into the living room. He turned on a heel, but didn't budge just yet, watching as Kagome set the mug down on the coffee table, beside his paper where it had originally been, and then seated herself on the far end of the sofa from it. When she raised her eyes expectantly to his he reluctantly pulled himself away from the kitchen's entrance and made his way across the room.

"You won't be joining me in this . . . terribly aromatic concoction?" He inquired smoothly as he sat down.

"I don't need to," she murmured, not able to hold his gaze as she explained in a rushed flow of words, "I'm not the one having black outs."

He stopped cold in his reach to lift the mug from the table. Black _outs_, plural? This was about more than just last night, then.

"You know about that?" He said, barely refraining from cringing- he never had been a big fan of making statements, or questions, of the obvious, but this one simply couldn't be helped.

Kagome cleared her throat awkwardly as she set her cell phone, which she'd dug out of her purse before she'd left the kitchen, down on the table to monitor the time- after all, she only had but so many minutes in which to tell him _everything_. "I'm sorry, this will sound strange, but I can't say anything more until you finish that."

True, Myoga had said that she only needed to wait for Sesshomaru to have been sipping it for five minutes- she was guessing that its _aromatic_ quality aided greatly in the tea's quick effectiveness- but she felt if she kept talking, she'd say too much and then Nah Rah Ku would know something was up and pop in to keep the professor away from drinking it. She watched him for a long, strained moment, worried that she'd said too much already, but there was no change to his appearance or attitude that she could discern, so Kagome forced herself to feel relieved that- at least in that- she hadn't slipped up.

She fidgeted and fussed with her nails, tapped her foot against the floor, even thumbed quickly through the newspaper just to occupy herself. Never could she remember any other time in her life in which five minutes had seemed so very long. Every few moments she flicked her gaze upward to assure herself that he was still sipping the tea- not that she envied him, it smelled horrific, but, as seemed typical of Professor Taisho Sesshomaru, his expression told nothing of the fact that he was choking down something that must taste so very bad.

Finally it happened . . . the sound she'd been dreading met her ears- Sesshomaru setting his mug down on the table. There was a cold rippling in the pit of her stomach as she leaned over and peered inside, confirming that he's taken in every last drop. She was so distracted with her own growing feelings of anxiety and self-loathing that she jumped when he reached out and lightly, tentatively touched the tips of his fingers to her knee.

"Kagome, please," he began, his level voice soft, but stern, "tell me what's going on."

She nodded slowly, blue eyes fixing on the surface of the coffee table as she sputtered out, "J- just please don't interrupt or I'll never get through this. It, um, it all started back at the site . . . ."

Rushing and bumbling and tripping over words here and there in her hurry to get in as much as she could and still have some time left over for him to get his reaction out of his system before the shielding effect of the tea wore off. She told him everything that she could, fighting with herself every step of the way to not back down, to not let herself break down in tears, to not sugar coat anything. Kagome tried to assure Sesshomaru that the things that had happened between her and the demon had nothing to do with her feelings for him. They'd been at Nah Rah Ku's mercy- but she was going to save them . . . with Myoga's aid and instruction, she was going to set things right somehow.

She even told him things that she hadn't been certain were entirely true until she was speaking them openly to him- that the chance of him not believing her wasn't the only reason she hadn't told him sooner. It was also because she was so very scared that he'd blame her . . . that he'd see her differently after he knew about the things she'd let the demon do to her. Higurashi Kagome was in absolute dread that once she told him what she'd been hiding from him he wouldn't love her anymore.

The most astounding of all, perhaps, being that if she'd known anything like this could have happened she'd never accepted the internship all those months ago even though it likely would have meant she and Sesshomaru would never have had a single moment together, let alone have fallen in love. And as much as she had been fighting herself to not let it happen, a tear broke free to roll down her cheek.

"That's it," she finished in a small voice, glancing at her cell phone- twenty minutes left, she must have _really_ rushed on through the whole thing.

She waited for him to get up and pace around as he berated her for letting the situation get this far, or demand that she get out of his house and insist that he never wanted to see her again . . . or, hell, even to just slump back against the sofa cushion behind him, shaking his head and giving him an exasperated sigh as he tried to put into words exactly how much her revelations had just made him hate her. But none of those things happened. In fact, nothing happened for what seemed like forever, despite her knowledge that it was really only about a minute.

Sniffling, she flickered her eyes up in his direction to see that he was staring at her with a completely, heart-breakingly blank expression. Nodding slowly to herself- she'd probably just ensured that he would never again look at her with anything but revulsion, but he had to know everything- Kagome lifted a hand to wipe that tiny, wayward trickle of wetness. She was going to get up, go retrieve her purse from the kitchen and leave him in peace until she was ready to confront Nah Rah Ku.

It happened then, before the backs of her fingers even came into contact with her cheek. Sesshomaru's hand had shot out, latching around her wrist. For a startled moment Kagome could only force out a helpless whimper as her fingers scrabbled against his larger, stronger ones in an attempt to free herself, terrified that the demon had broken through the barrier and was lashing out at her.

The grip on her wrist, however, was firm yet so very gentle. She gave up the struggle instantly, letting him pull her close and pressed her face into the hollow of his shoulder, giving into the wracking sobs she hadn't realized she'd been holding back as she felt his arms curling around her.

"I'm sorry, Sesshomaru, I'm so, _so_ sorry!" she hiccupped the words, her voice muffled against him.

Gods, she was shaking- he'd not realized it until he'd touched her. He wanted to believe this was all just some sick, twisted joke, but he knew that wasn't so. He wanted to be angry with himself for the things The Thief had made him do, but that wasn't logical . . . he had no control over the demon- in fact, it seemed quite the opposite. He wanted to be upset with Kagome, to believe she should have come to him so much sooner, but that was illogical as well. There was no way she could think he would believe her until she had reason . . . like witnessing his forced acknowledgment of missing time last night.

She was blaming herself. He could tell her that wasn't true- that if the demon wanted into their lives so badly, it would have found a way, with or without her- but she wasn't likely to listen, which was alright, because he found that there was something in all of this for which he could hate himself. He hated himself for being jealous of the moments The Thief had spent with Kagome, and wasn't that terrible of him? To be jealous of another for holding her, forgetting that it was someone she barely wanted touching her at all?

Her cries quieted quickly and Sesshomaru glanced over her shoulder at the phone she'd place on the coffee table. If he was guessing correctly, they had roughly fifteen minutes until this wore off . . . until he was expected to push all of the sudden, shocking information to the back of his mind and pretend he didn't know any of it. For once in his life, he was positive that such a thing just might not be possible this time.

If they hurried, they might have just enough time to get him in the door before Nah Rah Ku had access to his thoughts again.

Kagome choked out a gasp as Sesshomaru stood, pulling her up with him, digging his car keys out of his pocket and giving them to her. "Let's go," he muttered levelly, blindly grabbing her hand to tug her to follow him.

She spurted, barely managing to snatch up her cell phone as he pulled her through the door and out onto the stoop. "G . . . go? I don't understand- and why can't we just take my car."

Leading her to his car, he spoke quickly without looking back at her. "To Myoga's, and your car might fall apart if someone sneezes too loudly in it, never mind driving at the speed limit."

"Myoga's?" she echoed, realization dawning as he released her hand to walk around to the passenger side. "Sesshomaru, we can't, not yet- I'm not ready to face him!"

For the tiniest second, Kagome thought she saw the flaring of his temper flickering in the depths of his eyes and he quickly strode back to her, cupping her face in his hands and leaning down so they were eye-level. "Kagome, listen carefully- I will not be able to get past the things you have just told me. You have to be ready because it is now or never. I think I'm handling things spectacularly well, given the circumstances and this is the only thing that I'm asking of you. _You_ have to end this, because I can't."

He was right- he was handling it better than she'd thought, but if he really wouldn't be able to stop thinking about it . . . . She gave a determined sniffle, nodding emphatically. With the type of person she knew Sesshomaru to be, it was probably killing him to admit that he couldn't protect her- to say aloud that she had to be the one to protect him- and they were running out of time.

"Okay, Sesshomaru," she murmured in a rushed breath, touching her hands against his before pulling away and unlocking the door. "Wait, why am I driving?" she inquired, starting the car as he climbed into the passenger side.

"Because if the barrier wears off sooner than expected and I'm at the wheel, we might never get there."

Kagome nodded as she peeled away from the curb. If Nah Rah Ku found out all of this before she got him to Myoga's she didn't know what would happen. She couldn't think about what this might mean for her and Sesshomaru afterwards, either; she could only hope- for a tense, speed-limit-pushing several minutes- that they weren't pulled over by the cops.


	37. Uncertain Moments

**Chapter Thirty-Seven**

Uncertain Moments

Kagome wasn't entirely sure how they made it there in time- not with the way she kept worriedly glancing over at Sesshomaru every few seconds while she drove. It was troubling to see him constantly checking himself over, to hear him muttering things under his breath in an attempt to keep himself distracted from all that he'd just heard in case the barrier _did_ slip away too soon.

She couldn't help pausing for the briefest moment after they'd pulled up outside of Myoga's building- never mind that her rushed parking job had left the front right wheel up on the curb. "How do you feel?"

"Still like _me,_" he called curtly over his shoulder as he walked to the entrance and yanked the door open. "Let's move it."

Nodding- how could she be so thoughtless as to _not_ be hurrying- she dashed from her place beside the car and ducked under his arm into the foyer. It was difficult, even in a moment like this, for her to switch off her notice of little things about him. There was the way he was clenching and unclenching his fists as he'd walked . . . the tense set of his shoulders, the uncharacteristic- or, at least to her, uncharacteristic, as she'd never seen such a thing from him before- if faint flush in his cheeks. The corner of her mind that was registering all of this with blinding speed as she approached the row of intercom bells was now convinced that she'd finally seen all sides of Taisho Sesshomaru. She was the only one who knew he could be like this and she loved him all the more.

But it did nothing to assuage her fears that once this was all over he would turn away from her forever; he'd not said anything since her revelations to make her think he wasn't simply biding his time until he was free of the demon.

Frowning darkly at no one in particular - she didn't have the luxury of feeling sorry for herself now, even if he hated her after all she was still going to rid him of Nah Rah Ku- she slammed her hand over the button for Myoga's apartment, praying the old man wasn't in the bathroom or on the other side of the meager living space. He might be spry for his age, but she was getting the cold, crawly sensation in the pit of her stomach that every second counted.

It wasn't until she turned to look at Sesshomaru and he spared a moment from his own tiny, forced distractions to place his hands on her shoulders that she realized she was trembling. "Kagome," he murmured softly in a tone that almost sounded effortlessly calm, even though she knew there was _no_ way that was possible. "You need to calm down."

"Okay . . . okay," she responded in a shaky voice, lifting her hands to touch his.

She needed the added comfort and security of his touch, even if for just a moment. The intercom crackled to life then, causing her to jump right out of his grasp. It was a reflex born out of the idea that she was, in effect, _dating_ her professor and the sound had reminded her that despite being alone they were in a public place.

Relief flooded through her as Myoga's voice barked a harassed sounding, "What?"

She instantly spun on her heel, jabbing her thumb against the speaker's button. "It's Kagome- um, things kinda didn't go as planned and I'm here with Sesshomaru."

As she'd hoped, the old man understood exactly what this had to mean. "I hope you're ready."

"Don't have a much of a-" Kagome's words dropped off instantly as she felt that tell-tale shiver dance up her spine, "Myoga! Myoga HURRY!"

Immediately she was spinning on a heel to face Sesshomaru, but his body was already bolting out the door. She'd caught just enough of his face before he disappeared out of sight to see the markings adorning it. Nah Rah Ku was in control, now, there was no telling when he'd relinquish it- or what he'd do while he was at the helm- she _had_ to go after him.

She fidgeted for the barest second; wanting to wait at least long enough for Myoga to see which direction she was heading in, but she'd seen how fast Sesshomaru could move while he was possessed. It was, in fact, the very first thing she'd learned about him on that night so many months ago in the temple. Briefly closing her eyes, she spared the tiniest moment to feel her surroundings . . . she could feel a dull hum from the entire building around her, but the place where Myoga's apartment should be was dead space to her- it confirmed her initial thoughts that he had some sort of barrier set in place there- and she thought she could sense his energy slowly emerging from it, but at the same time she was starting to pick up Nah Rah Ku. It was on the very edge of her perception, just the faintest glimmer, but at least it gave her a direction, she just had to keep a tab on it.

Turning, she opened her eyes, keeping her gaze on the interior door as she began walking backward toward the entrance. She wanted to be certain that the old man at least saw her before she, too, would vanish from sight. Her fingers felt cold and clammy as she reached back blindly to open the outer doors and stepped outside, back into the quiet, darkening night.

Finally, as she was nearing the edge of the large glass pane- as she was certain she was about to lose her touch on Nah Rah Ku's energy- the interior door opened. She waited just long enough to make eye contact with Myoga, assuring herself that he'd seen her. It had only been a few seconds, yet it had felt like forever- she was truly getting sick to death of time stretching itself thin on her- when she was free to turn and bolt after the demon.

Kagome had never been much of a runner, taking off at top speed didn't eat up as much ground as she would have liked. He was still only on the edge of her mind's eye, but she was focused on catching up, on not stumbling or tripping. She was far too distracted with trying to keep herself breathing steadily so she didn't run out of air and the burning in her legs from the sudden, unaccustomed heavy use of the muscles to consider that no matter how much ground she gained, that glimmer of his energy never got any closer or brighter.

She even lost track of how many blocks she'd run, of what turns she'd taken. If Myoga wasn't following her she was going to be well and truly lost even if she did locate The Thief.

_He's tricking me, somehow . . . _she realized. Almost simultaneously that flicker of buzzing light that she was picking up from him was simply gone as if it had never existed. It was akin to the flame of a lighter going out more than a match, there was no metaphorical wisp of smoke for her to even attempt to grasp.

She stumbled to a halt, pitching forward at the waist to catch her breath. Tears welled up instantly. He was _gone_ . . . Nah Rah Ku had taken Sesshomaru somewhere that she couldn't follow. For once she felt relief at Myoga's district being so deserted all the time, there would be no one to look at her like she was insane if she screamed. Kagome inhaled deeply, straightening up, but just as she was about to unleash that miserable sound of frustration and pain a hand clamped over her mouth and she felt herself being yanked backward and all but off her feet entirely.

Her eyes darted around frantically as her fingers scrambled helplessly at the arms around her, but it was hopeless. Myoga- her only possible savior in this- was nowhere in sight as her captor dragged her around a corner.


	38. Infliction of Harm

**Chapter Thirty-Eight**

Infliction of Harm

Kagome's heart hammered against her ribcage as the hand covering her mouth slipped away, but sooner than she could blink—let alone cry out for help—she was turned by the arms holding her and shoved hard against one of the rough brick walls that lined the alley. Gold eyes stared into hers as pained tears blurred her vision and she attempted, with clumsy, panicked fingers, to pry at the tight grip pinning her.

After only a moment she ceased struggling, knowing it to be pointless. His face gave away nothing, but the crimson veins threading and twisting through those metallic irises spoke volumes of how angry he was with her. She forced a gulp down her throat, wondering just what that anger would cause him to do this time.

He seemed to be waiting for her to speak, but she hadn't the faintest clue what to say. Frowning darkly—a truly frightening expression when marring such a usually impassive face—he pressed her harder into the unyielding surface at her back.

She whimpered, the pain from that initial impact a moment ago flaring up instantly. "Please stop," Kagome whispered, squeezing her eyes shut as she tried to keep her voice steady, "you're hurting me."

The demon sneered, bringing his face so close to hers that she could feel his breath ghosting over her skin. "You are mine to do with as I please; should I wish to cause you physical harm, then so be it."

In that little disconnected corner of her mind that was always unaffected by her situation, always observing the scene, she found it odd that he would make the distinction as to the _type_ of pain he was inflicting upon her. "N-no, Nah Rah Ku, I'm _not_ yours!"

His voice lowered dangerously as a cruel grin played on his lips. "You think not, little priestess?"

A gasp escaped her at the feel of her senses clouding over; the power suddenly rippling off of him was overwhelming. That terrible ability of his to arouse his victim clawed and pulled at her, making her want him, even as she tried to force the feeling away.

Sensing her bitter reluctance, the demon chuckled; this, ignoring her emotions and reminding himself that all that mattered was his own wants, felt good. The haze dimming those innocent blue eyes was quite delicious in its own way, as well.

_Innocent? Hmph_. He knew he likely appeared so calm to her, but in truth he was livid. So very, deeply enraged he thought if he loosed his control just once he might crush her; grind the delicate bones he was clasping to dust in his hands.

Her act was no use, now. She could no longer hide behind such perceived virtue; not from him. Just how long had she been plotting behind his back? The Thief did not have all of the information. It was a credit to this Sesshomaru, truly, that his host was managing to shield some of what the girl had revealed.

But it was not enough.

He did not know when, precisely, she had become so full of her own abilities that she would think she could be a threat to him? She was a terrible at telling falsehoods, so how had she kept these plans a secret all those times they'd been alone?

Of course, he could ask her- he had her right here, with his power washing over her, arousal coursing through her so strongly that he could smell it on her. But then, she'd proven her ability to be dishonest with him, he could not know that she would tell him anything worth believing.

Anger at her gripped the center of his chest, like clawed fingers sinking, painful and searing, into vulnerable flesh. To think, he had allowed himself to believe that he felt something greater than desire for her—such utter foolishness. Lyka all over again, but then Lyka had been deranged, had she not? Unaware of how poisoned her thinking was?

The same could not be said now. No, his _little priestess_ was aware that she was . . . stringing him along, as the modern term would have it. She had knowingly deceived him to lull him into a false sense of security; worse, into a sense of complacency, and he had allowed it to happen.

He was as angry with himself for this as he was with her.

She squirmed in his grasp, trying to push herself further into the wall behind her. Not just to keep the pain coming in an effort to let her thoughts remain free of the riot his power was causing in her body, but also to shrink away from him as much as she could.

This poor attempt at retreat did not go unnoticed by him, rather he turned it to his advantage, pressing his hips against her until she could move back no further. He held her gaze, relishing the two, vastly conflicting, emotions he could read in her eyes—fear and desire—as he wedged his knee between her thighs.

She tried to stop the tears from welling up, but one escaped to roll down her cheek and it terrified her all the more that he seemed to enjoy the sight of it. "I'm a person, not a possession, you can't own me," she whispered finally, though her voice—trembling and small, just as her body was—lacked the conviction words such as those should have held.

Nah Rah Ku leaned down, dragging his teeth delicately along the side of her throat. He laughed darkly at the small sound of shamed pleasure worked its way out of her throat. "Can you think of a time since my rebirth when you were _not_ mine to take whenever I wished? Such _is_ the meaning of ownership."

"I don't want this," she said meekly, turning her face away from him, too ashamed, too embarrassed, of the way he was making her body betray her.

He grinned in triumph—perhaps she _was_ innocent, after all . . . and more foolish than he to think that her machinations to be rid of him would work. "You forget, little priestess," he murmured, changing tactic instantly, he relinquished his grip on one of her arms to drag his fingertips gingerly along the side of her face, knowingly reminding her of how gentle he could be with her when he saw fit, "I can _make_ you want me."

In that moment something bright flickered on the edge of her consciousness. And it gave her hope, helped her to distance her thoughts from the delicious little ache he'd created between her legs. He couldn't accept that she did not want him to force her like this, that forcing her to want something was not the same as wanting it herself.

He incapable of understanding such thinking, she was positive of that, now. But she felt she grasped the root of his anger, at last.

"Why do you have to keep hurting me?" she asked in a voice so tiny that she knew he only heard it because of his inhuman senses.

The demon froze entirely at this, for a moment there was nothing but the rushing of his breath before he pulled back just a little, meeting her gaze. "Because I know no other way," he replied, his tone colored with an odd sort of awed realization.

Whether this was because she had not already come to understand this, or because he had never considered it before, she couldn't tell. There was every chance that it was a bit of both.

Part of her felt a twinge of guilt for distracting him. Perhaps if he'd not been so set in his way, perhaps if he'd not looked down them all so much . . . she could have taught him what it was to be human.

If only she'd had more time, but it was too late now.

Nah Rah Ku felt the presence at his back mere seconds before the little, aged mystic was suddenly beside him, blowing a strange, glittering powder into his face. He growled and turned on the withered and tiny creature, but as soon as he took a step, everything went black.

Kagome regained her wits the moment she saw him, the moment she saw Sesshomaru's body, sinking to the ground. She dropped quickly to her knees, catching him before he could hit his head and raised watery eyes to her mentor.

"I'm sorry your heart has to be made raw for this, Kagome," he said, patting her shoulder gently.

Frowning, she looked to the face of the man she was holding—marking free at the moment—and gently brushed silver hairs away from his forehead. "There was no other way."

_Because I know no other way, _Nah Rah Ku's words echoed in her head, his own confusion as he'd spoken them mocking her.

When she looked up at Myoga again, he shared her darkened expression. "What's wrong?"

The old man couldn't help cracking a grin at their new predicament. "I was wondering how you and I are going to manage to get him back to my apartment."


	39. Out of Body

**Chapter Thirty-Nine**

Out of Body

She and Myoga—draping the man across their shoulders as though he simply passed out, drunk—managed to lug Sesshomaru back to the medium's apartment. The girl carried the brunt of his weight, fearful of what the strain of such an activity might do to Myoga. It seemed a long while before Kagome was able to catch her breath.

An excruciatingly long while, in fact, especially given how much time said lugging took. She felt a bit harried, as though precious minutes ticked away from them, but they had little choice. The powder Myoga used to subdue Nah Rah Ku had an iffy-at-best duration, and waiting for Sango or Miroku to get to them would have wasted even more time.

Now, she looked on in a dazed mix of fear and fascination as Myoga erected a circle around Sesshomaru. Should he awaken as Nah Rah Ku during Kagome's search, the boundary would keep the demon from fleeing again; or, more frightening still, from trying to harm either of them.

The air was thick with incense, and so many colored pillar candles were lit that it made the entire room a few degrees hotter. She felt lightheaded, her thoughts slipped easily from her grasp, which made her nervous whenever she could keep a notion in her head long enough to realize it.

But that was good. She was supposed to feel this way when she began to disconnect. After all, she _was_ attempting to leave her body, for longer than the strolls that she'd taken—around the trippy wonderland that Myoga's apartment complex became in the astral plane—as practice during her previous sessions with the old man.

However, the difference between prior exercises and now was that those had been guided meditations. This time, Kagome would be alone.

And it was no longer just an exercise.

The key, once she was free of her body, would be to focus on the time and place in which Nah Rah Ku was worshiped as a deity. Myoga explained that only on the physical plane, could one not move backward; in the astral realm, however, human consciousness could go _anywhere_, not bound by time or space.

She gave Sesshomaru one, last look. Her gaze traced over the line of his jaw, his lowered eyelids, the mass of his long, silver hair, pooled on the floor beneath his head. Gods, he'd hate that. She stifled a small, giddy chuckle as she thought of how quickly he'd jump to set his hair neatly in order, were he able.

_This has to work_, she thought. _Even if . . ._ . Kagome forced a gulp down her throat, sniffling. Even if he never looked at her the same way again, this _had _to work. She had to make him whole again.

Inhaling deeply, she closed her eyes and willed herself to push beyond her emotional state. She felt her breathing slow, and determinedly pictured the temple cavern in her mind. She _would _be there.

The rich, mossy salt-water scent of the place; the fear that curled in the pit of her stomach the first time she stepped out of the winding tunnel that led to the subterranean shore. How the air felt a bit thick, sort of heavy against her skin, the texture of the temple's stone walls beneath her fingertips. Imagined the sounds of soft, shallow waves crashing lightly off the cave's pocked and pitted sides echoing in her ears; she remembered every single second, every single thing being inside that cavern made her feel._Everything . . . ._

The weight of it forced a tear from beneath one, closed and fluttering eyelid.

These sensations were all too real; too tangible. It could only mean she was already there.

Gentle fingers wiped the tear from her cheek.

Kagome almost started at the familiarity, almost snapped her eyes open, but not yet. Not yet, he couldn't be here, but somehow . . . .

This was all her. She'd managed to drag a fleeting aspect of his consciousness to her.

And if she didn't hang onto him for a moment, he'd be whipped away by time, and space, and harsh reality, just as easily.

"This is no time for crying" Sesshomaru's voice whispered over her skin, making her shiver a little.

"You're not supposed to be here," she said quietly, her words trembling.

"It's probably your doing."

She tried not to laugh at that. "Probably."

In a strange way, this comforted her. That she could draw even then tiniest fragment of him along with her—even if for a mere second—was possible only because of how connected to one another they'd become.

"But I'm holding you back."

"No," her voice tumbled out, weak, forlorn-sounding.

She swore she felt his lips moving gently against her forehead as he spoke. "Yes. And you have to let me go."

Kagome wanted to cry all over again—to forget all of this and break down bawling on the spot. "Sesshomaru . . . ?"

He gave a short, nearly humorless chuckle. "Please? You have something to do."

Ah, she felt silly, now. He was speaking in the moment; she needed to push him aside and focus on the task at hand.

"I need to know, first," she ventured, unable to help herself. No matter his answer, she would help him, still, but the longer she held the words, the more deeply rooted her fear became. "Am I . . . am doing this for . . ." she forced another gulp, and then squeaked out the last word, "_us_?"

She felt his lips move, skimming delicately along the side of her face to hover beside her ear. His breath ghosted over her skin. "I can't believe you don't know."

Kagome let her eyes open slowly, knowing he was fading. She caught a last, fleeting glimpse of golden skin and silver hair, and then, Sesshomaru was gone, leaving her alone in the cave.

Only . . . .

Now that he wasn't there distracting her, she heard things, a lot of things. Voices, and shuffling, and the sounds of stone scraping against stone. She was in the deepest recesses of the cavern, near the mass grave, her back to the temple. Reflexively backpedaling until she was away that sad and depressing bit of earth—though common sense told her that she was far in the past, that this wasn't a grave, _yet_—she repressed a shudder of fear and revulsion.

She had prepared herself for how real her surroundings would feel, or she thought she had. It felt so much like she was physically here. But . . . as she turned to face the temple, she saw people . . . . Clad in brightly beaded loincloths, their skin adorned with colorful inks capturing the symbols of their god's name.

_Nah Ra Ku's people_.

In a daze, she simply watched them for a few strained, drawn-out moments. They bustled about, bringing food, carrying stones into the temple—three or four men, to each squared hunk of rock. Squinting, she could see the tunnel in the distance. Water filled the winding space at shoulder-height. Well, about _her_ shoulder-height, and she could see more people wading through the entrance, carrying food and other items atop their heads.

She was almost afraid to venture any closer, but she would never learn anything from over here.

She only hoped Nah Ra Ku wouldn't detect her presence. Oh, she reminded herself, even if he did, at this point in time, he would not know her, He would have no idea who she was, or what she was doing there.

Somehow, that didn't calm her very much.

And then she saw him. The Thief of Bliss, in the flesh. Her breath rushed out of her lungs. Tall, with fair, chiseled skin, long ebony hair that hung down his back in loose waves, and bright crimson eyes; he was . . . _beautiful_. Just like in that deliciously sinful dream months ago.

He was also a controlling, life-draining demon who'd seduced her, stolen her virginity and wanted to permanently inhabit the body of the man she loved!

That was all the pep-talk Kagome needed.

Taking a steadying breath, she steeled her nerves and forced her legs into motion. She would do this. She _could_ do this! Nodding determinedly, she felt a more secure with each step that she would be alright.

And then one of the workers stumbled, running right into her. . . . Right _through_ her.

A chill passed through her as the man's energy slid through hers; it felt like someone pressing an icy palm against her skin on a warm day. She spun on her heel instantly, watching the worker.

He shuddered violently for a moment, rubbing his hands along his arms as he turned, wearily eyeing the place where he'd crashed through her. Frowning and shaking his head, he bent to retrieve the bundle of textiles he dropped and continued up toward the temple steps.

Breathing heavily for a moment as realization settle over her, Kagome lifted her hands in front of her face, wiggling her fingers before her eyes. "Oh, gods, I'm a ghost here!"

She understood now what she'd felt when she first wandered through the jungle. Like she'd been here before. Because she was here, now, in a form that wasn't bound by space, or _time_.

Oh, she would_ never_ get the hang of this nonlinear-time thing, she was certain.

"Lyka!" A man's voice cut straight into her worries, creating an entirely new one as that name alone set off a sickening twist in the pit of her stomach.

The one who'd spoken walked up to stand beside the Demon. He was a youngish man, but he held himself proudly. From his countenance, and the plume of feathers adorning his head, she guessed he was the Thief's long lost priest.

He called the name again, and from behind the bend of the temple wall came running a little girl. Kagome almost couldn't make sense of what she was seeing. A tiny, adorable, chubby-cheeked creature who's long, black hair swished with her steps, bounded up and took the priest's hand . . . .

She smiled brighter than the sun as she looked from her father's face to Nah Ra Ku and back again. The little thing couldn't have been more than seven years old.

The enormous, jet eyes Kagome recognized all too well, but at this moment, she felt her heart breaking.

Those eyes held none of the sick, twisted malice of the Lyka she'd come to know and fear. No. Right now, at this already long-passed moment in time, the soul Kagome glimpsed inside Lyka's eyes was the most tragically pure thing she'd ever seen.

"Oh . . . how terribly they broke you," she whispered, her voice trembling with the unexpected tears she held in.

The little girl's head whirled around, her curious gaze landing on Kagome. She spoke to the priest. The words slowly translated, sorting themselves out for Kagome in some bizarre, spiritual, universal language. And, as she listened, Kagome realized she could understand every word spoken around her.

"Father," the little girl had said, never once blinking a she looked Kagome in the eyes, "there's a spirit here."


	40. Saving Grace

**Chapter Forty**

Saving Grace

Panic bubbled up inside Kagome as she stared back at the little girl. The little girl whom she still couldn't force herself to believe was the vile, black-hearted Lyka.

As the priest's gaze scanned the area, Kagome thought she could see goose bumps raise on his arms. "Where is this spirit?"

The girl rolled her eyes impatiently, triggering a stern expression to color her father's features. He spoke under his breath—a word Kagome couldn't quite catch, but given his tone, she felt certain this was akin to a father in the modern era uttering the dreaded phrase _young lady._

He glanced towards Nah Ra Ku, who only lifted his brows at the clear agitation in his priest's face. The demon may as well have come out and said, "She's just a child."

Sighing, the priest softened his expression as he turned back to his daughter, leaning down to clamp his hands gently over her tiny shoulders. "You know my sight is not as keen as yours. Ask the spirit what it wants, or tell it to leave."

Kagome hadn't realized she'd slowly backpedaled while watching the interaction, not until she felt a pressure behind her. Looking over her shoulder, she found she'd backed into a wall of the still under-construction pyramid.

Sighing, young Lyka pulled reluctantly from her father's grasp. So quick, Kagome nearly missed it, the girl's attention flicked upon the demon. In that tiny moment, her dark eyes widened and her lips parted in a short sigh. Just as fast, she whirled on her heel and started toward Kagome.

"She is so gifted," the priest said to the demon, beaming. "Clearly it is a sign she is a worthy successor to take over in our people's worship of you when I have become too old to serve you well."

Lyka paused, glancing back at the demon, her posture drooping as she saw that he wasn't even looking in her direction. The reaction seemed wholly innocent, but Kagome knew better. More than a simple child's infatuation, was Lyka's want to be noticed and acknowledged what sparked her eventual obsession?

She couldn't retreat any further, not with the temple wall at her back. Though she wondered briefly why that should be—couldn't ghosts pass through walls? Perhaps that took will or determination, applications for which she had no time.

The diminutive, cherub-face creature drew closer, and Kagome found herself wishing she'd focused much more closely on the priest when she'd channeled her destination. She'd hoped to have popped in later, when he'd started to lose faith in the Thief and perhaps wouldn't have minded sharing something as important as the demon's true name with a curious ghost.

Kagome's heart dropped into her stomach instantly, her eyes burning. If his words rang true, and he couldn't detect her the way Lyka could, perhaps this was a lost cause, after all.

What if there was no saving Sesshomaru?

Lyka stopped short, her eyes wide as her gaze met Kagome's again. "Spirit, why are you sad?"

Kagome's mouth opened, but she caught herself just before she began to speak. What was wrong with her? Was she really about to simply tell the girl everything—in front of Nah Rah Ku, no less? She clamped her lips together and shook her head.

There must've been something to the tone Lyka had used when she asked. That the voice of a child could sound so forlorn and sorrowful—as though she was not seeing Kagome's pain, but feeling it—was off-putting enough to make Kagome drop her guard for just a moment.

Frowning, the little girl shook her head, speaking over her shoulder, but not looking away from Kagome. "The spirit will not tell me."

He gave a slow nod, not really paying attention Kagome noticed, as he replied, "Then the wise spirit must know you have lessons to attend."

No different than any child, Lyka's tiny shoulders slumped at the mention of lessons. "Yes, father." Sighing, she turned and trudged her way through the sand toward the tunnel.

Kagome didn't have long to wonder how the miniscule girl would traverse the tunnel, half-submerged as it currently was. As Lyka approached the water, a man who'd been stationed near the entrance stepped forward, scooping her up and setting her on his shoulder.

Breathing a sigh of relief, Kagome followed. Away from the Demon and his priest, she might have better luck.

She had no idea what water would feel like in this state. Gritting her teeth, she tried her best to brace herself for a rush of cold, or an impact, or whatever plunging into chill water might occur to her as, but neither happened. Though not the most pleasant sensation, either—like passing through a dense, humid fog—she supposed there were far worse things.

The sensation vanished as soon as Kagome pulled herself from the water and out into the mouth of the exterior cave. Lyka's helper had just set the girl on her feet and already she was bounding off through the jungle.

In such a rush to catch her, Kagome barreled through the man, but didn't have the luxury to stop and shake off the icky, buzzing friction of slipping through him. Glancing back over her shoulder, she saw him shudder violently and dart his startled gaze around the cave as he wrapped his arms around himself.

Lyka's black hair flew behind her as her little legs ate up the clear-cut path back to the village. Kagome caught up, keeping pace a few steps back from the girl, but maintaining focus suddenly became a challenge. This path wasn't the one Kagome knew, the one that led to where their camp had been set up, no. But she did recognize it. This was the path she'd run in her dream of being chased through the rainforest by Lyka.

Kagome trembled, but shook her head determinedly, trying to force away the choking memory of the ash pouring down her throat. Her heart stammered in her chest as she pitched forward, all at once the remembrance was too real, and she found herself gasping for air.

Her exaggerated breaths must've reached Lyka's ears, because the girl halted. She didn't turn around though, simply staring straight ahead, as though she was weighing what to do. Kagome could only guess that not all spirits she'd encountered had been friendly. The girl couldn't be certain that the sound she heard was the same sad-faced spirit from the inside the cavern.

"Wait," she finally said, unable to take fighting her own subconscious. If she became too afraid, she might accidentally snap back into her body and she'd come to far to let something as ridiculous and selfish as her own fear.

Lyka turned her head, only a little, but enough that Kagome could see her eyes were closed. The bridge of her small nose scrunched up and her brow furrowed deeply. Was she trying to feel the energy near her?

"You speak to me now, cave-spirit?"

Kagome, bolstered by the knowledge that she could just speak, and Lyka would hear her native tongue—at least she hoped that was how this would go—tried for manners. "I'm sorry, I was frightened in the cave."

Lyka turned on a heel, opening her eyes as she peered curiously into Kagome's face. "You speak strangely."

"I do?" Questioning this was ridiculous, but Kagome was once more caught off-guard by the girl.

"Yes," Lyka nodded as she turned and began walking. She sidestepped, making room on the path beside her for Kagome. "I'm," she repeated. "What is I'm? Is this your name?"

Blinking rapidly, Kagome sighed. Children always found the worst moments to ask pointless questions. "I am," she clarified. "It means 'I am', in my . . . native tongue, we push some of our words together to speak more quickly."

"That is very funny," Lyka said with a quick giggle that stabbed through Kagome's heart like a shard of ice. Nothing she could do would change what would become of this girl, even if she tried, this would simply become a case of self-fulfilling prophecy.

"Will you tell me know why you're here?"

"I . . . " Kagome thought carefully about what to say. There was the chance no one had the answer for her, she didn't consider that. To think there might not be a way to save Sesshomaru was far too painful an end. "I need your help."

The little girl nearly tripped over her own two feet as she halted and spun to face Kagome. "My help?"

Kagome only nodded, a bit startled by Lyka's response.

A smile brightened her face. "A spirit has never needed _my _help before!"

"Well, now a spirit does," Kagome said, trying not to smile back, trying not to superimpose the image of the older Lyka who'd terrorized her over the face of this young, innocent creature.

The little girl sat on ground, clasping her hands in her lap as she stared up at Kagome expectantly. "Tell me what I must do!"

Holding in another sigh, Kagome slowly lowered herself to kneel before Lyka, maintaining eye-contact as she moved. "The man back there, the one who stood with your father . . . ."

"Nah Rah Ku?" Lyka's cheeks darkened a little and she tried, but failed, to hide a small grin at saying his name.

"Yes!" Kagome lightly placed her hands over Lyka's—only close enough that she could feel the pressure of the girl's physical form. She didn't want to get too excited. "Do you know if there is another name he calls himself?"

Some of the light drained from Lyka's expression. "I do not think I am allowed to share that."

_Yes! She knows!_ Kagome immediately clamped down on her excitement, keeping her features somber. "I promise he won't—" she shook her head, amending her words, "he will not know you told me."

"I want him to place his trust in me as he does with my father," Lyka said quietly, her gaze distant as she looked toward the cave.

Shoulders drooping, Kagome sat, her knees lightly pressing against Lyka's. When she was a child, her mother always touched her—a finger on her cheek, a hand on her shoulder, a light hug—to be certain she had Kagome's full attention when she spoke; to be certain the words, whatever they were, made an impact. Kagome only hoped such a tactic actually worked.

"In a different time from now, he will not be the man you know him as," Kagome explained, her voice steady. "I have a friend, someone I want very much to protect, and Nah Rah Ku is hurting him."

Lyka's eyes became sad, but she did not look surprised.

Kagome's face fell. "You've seen him hurt people?"

Shrugging, Lyka admitted in a whisper, "He sometimes becomes angry with the men."

"But not the women?"

Lyka shook her head. "I do not fully understand how, but we are his source of sustenance, to harm us would only harm himself."

"Yet still, you are fond of him?"

Those words did surprise Lyka. "I . . ." forcing a gulp down her throat, the girl shifted her head to one side, effectively hiding behind her hair as she murmured, "I know he will forever remain as he is now—that when I look as you do, he will not have aged. I hope someday he makes me his bride."

Kagome swallowed hard, blinking a sudden wash of tears from her eyes. No, what had happened was already done, this was merely an echo. Even if she told Lyka everything that her fondness would lead to, it would change nothing.

"That is how I feel about this friend he is hurting."

Lyka set her head straight, letting her hair fall back to her shoulder as she fixed Kagome with wide eyes.

"But I need to know his other name so that I can make him stop."

Nodding slowly, the little girl dropped her gaze from Kagome's. "You will not harm him, will you?"

Smiling, Kagome tried once, but the words died on her lips. Clearing her throat, she started again, "You have my word. I will not harm him . . . but I will do what I must to protect my friend."

A serious, sorrowful gleam sparked in the depths of Lyka's dark eyes whenever Kagome used the word _friend_. Suddenly it occurred to her, Lyka was the high priest's daughter. She probably didn't have any friends due to her position. Her entire life was about her lessons—the lessons that groomed her to become their next spiritual leader—and . . . Nah Rah Ku.

Oh, no matter how she looked at it, Lyka's story simply became sadder and darker.

"I understand." Lyka forced a sniffle as she rose up on her knees and leaned over Kagome's shoulder. "I once heard my father call him B'al Tah-Nos."

Kagome mouthed the syllables, her eyes drifting closed. "You're certain this name is . . . important to him?" She wasn't certain she could explain the concept of a true name to the girl, even if she fully understood it herself.

"Yes," Lyka nodded, sitting back to again fix Kagome with those enormous jet eyes. "Father was punished quite severely, but I was the only one who ever knew why."

Kagome's hand shot to her mouth, covering a sudden cry of mingled joy and relief. She only hoped this name was as _important_ as she needed it to be. And if it was . . . her hand slipped from her face, the joy fading as she stared at the sweet, uncorrupted Lyka.

If this name was what she needed, then Sesshomaru would be saved, but only thanks to Lyka.

Reaching out, Kagome gently stroked her fingertips over the girl's glossy, dark hair. "You will not understand this now, and by the time it matters, you'll have forgotten, but—" she paused, sniffling as her eyes watered, "I forgive you, Lyka."

* * *

A rattling sound drew Myoga's attention to the window sill. Frowning, the old man narrowed his eyes as he focused on the jar of salt.

The container shook, the inky blotches exploding outward again and then, all at once, the stains receded. As the jar stilled, the darkness vanished.

Myoga grinned, giving a sagely nod and turning back to the unconscious Sesshomaru as he murmured, "I think she's trying to save more than one soul today, my young friend."


	41. All Things End

**Chapter Forty-One**

All Things End

Kagome was overcome with a sharp, jarring sense of vertigo as she hurtled back toward her body. She wasn't certain if she was truly moving more quickly than she had went she'd jetted away from Myoga's apartment in the present, but it certainly _felt _faster.

She slipped through the wall of old man's building, and across his apartment. There, Sesshomaru lay unconscious, still, in the center of the circle Myoga had cast. His face was so peaceful, so utterly worry-free that the sight strengthened her as much as it broke her heart.

As she neared her own still form, Nah Rah Ku's true name on her lips, she slammed into something and was hurtled backward, away from her body.

Startled, Kagome gave herself a shake and looked up. The first thing she noticed was Myoga's widened gaze darting about the cramped living space. Her mentor knew something was wrong, and the concern etching his weathered face alarmed her so deeply her stomach twisted in knots.

Looking toward her body, she found a tall, fair-skinned figure with long, dark hair standing before it. _"_Oh no," she whispered, her eyes meeting Nah Rah Ku's blood-red ones.

He had managed to slip free of Myoga's circle. She realized with a sick dread that he must've separated himself from Sesshomaru's consciousness before the barrier had been completed, _just_ to stop her!

Frowning darkly, her hands balled into fists and took a step toward him, opening her mouth—

Sesshomaru's body convulsed and he started shaking, violently. Nah Rah Ku looked from Kagome to his host and back. The expression on his face was terrifyingly calm.

Kagome instinctively started to Sesshomaru's side, but Nah Rah Ku caught her by the shoulders.

"What are you doing to him?" she shrieked, struggling in his effortless hold.

"Oh, that," the Thief glanced at Sesshomaru once more before shrugging. "I may have restricted his air flow. . . . Oops."

Fear rocked through her, stealing her ability to think clearly. "Please, _please_, stop this! You'll kill him!"

"I know." Again the creature shrugged, tightening his grip on her as he dragged her spirit body back against his. "I can always find a new host. You will never find another Sesshomaru."

Her vision swam with tears, she could see Myoga scrambling around behind Nah Rah Ku as he tried to help Sesshomaru. Why was the demon's cruelty always such a shock for her?

Yet, that very question ringing through her head brought her to her senses. She whispered something and Nah Rah Ku tensed against her, instantly.

Meeting his gaze once more, she felt a strange, primal joy in the anger twisting his face.

"No," he said, growling the word. "You belong to me; _he_ belongs to me! I _forbid_ you to do this!"

He swung her around bringing her back to his chest and swept a hand upward to cover her mouth. She struggled, a sad effort, but keeping her still stopped him from silencing her for a moment.

"B'al Tah-Nos," she screamed just as his fingers pressed over her lips.

The Thief froze, his breath erupted in short gasps as he turned his head to look down at her in his arms.

Myoga's frantic ramblings and scurrying motions seemed to deafen her. He was only so harried because he was scrambling to keep Sesshomaru alive.

She slid her hand up over the demon's and pulled it away from her mouth. "B'al Tah-Nos, release me."

His features contorted in anger, but he immediately opened his arms. The motion so fast, she stumbled forward, unaware she'd still been attempting to pull out of his grasp, all the while.

Shaking her head as she backpedaled toward her body, she couldn't help one last effort to justify her actions to him. To make him understand her perceived betrayal. "I tried," she whispered, sorrow edging her voice, "I tried to show you what it is to be human. You failed at every turn. If you could've . . ." again shaking her head, she realized the truth of her words, "If I could have saved you both, I would have tried for you."

The demon's face clouded in confusion. She'd have saved him?

"But you proved yourself beyond redemption," she said, her breathed words barely audible as she sank backward into her body.

She never saw the droplet trickle down the Thief's cheek. Never heard the scream of frustration that wrenched from his throat.

* * *

"He's loose!" Kagome bellowed before her eyes even opened, forcing herself to sit up. Her body ached as though she'd been in a car wreck. "B'al Tah-Nos! Let Sesshomaru breathe!"

Sesshomaru gasped, coughing and rasping as he drew in huge lungfuls of air. The relief washing through Kagome was so great she nearly collapsed backward again. Instead, she shifted onto her knees and crawled over the line of the circle, careful not to break it. Sitting on her heels, she pulled his head into her lap.

Myoga hurried from beside the circle to fetch the jar and container of salt. "How did he break free?" The sage demanded.

"Let's discuss that later," Kagome said, her tone frantic, though she nearly gave a laugh at the old man's ability to sidetrack during a time like this. "B'al Tah-Nos," she repeated, her voice as strong as she could manage as she smoothed strands of Sesshomaru's hair away from his damp forehead.

She waited until Myoga was back, the salt-rimmed jar pressed around Sesshomaru's third eye.

"B'al Tah-Nos, I banish you from Taisho Sesshomaru for all time!"

Myoga's body jerked with the effort to hold the jar in place as the demon's essence poured from Sesshomaru, so forceful he thought the glass might shatter in his fingers.

Worried by the strain in her mentor's face, Kagome rested her hand over his, steadying his hold, and helping him guide the jar down, into the salt.

She watched, dazed, as Myoga prepared the jar, just as he had with Lyka's, and set it in the sunlight. Her eyes filled with tears as she looked from the sick-looking black and red stained salt to her Myoga as her hobbled back to the circle.

Her lips trembled as she tried to speak, but nothing came. She forced a short breath and tried again, "Is it . . ." she wasn't certain she could manage the words. As if to even ask might somehow undo everything.

"Is it over?"

Myoga touched a gentle, wrinkled hand to her cheek as his old face scrunched in smile. "Yes. You did well. Of course, if it was me, I'd have done it much faster."

She couldn't help but laugh, all of her worry and burden from all these months evaporated in a heartbeat.

"Told you this little guy could be a handful," Sesshomaru's said softly, his voice creaking a little.

She gasped, dropping her gaze to find him staring up into her face. Before she even realized what she was doing, she curled around him, hugging him tightly.

He coughed, the sound shallow and awkward as he lightly patted her shoulder. "Gently, please, I feel like I was hit by a truck."

Myoga frowned, rising to his full, if meager, height above them. "Little guy? You will feel far worse when I'm through with you, my young friend."

Again, Kagome couldn't do anything but laugh as she tried to stop the old man from smacking Sesshomaru with his cane.

* * *

"How many times must I say it, Kagome?"

She shrugged as she set down two cups of tea and sat across from him on the sofa in his living room. Two days had passed. Two, and he'd been deep asleep nearly the entire forty-eight hours. Even today it appeared only he'd climbed out of bed and thrown on a robe to let her in.

Not that she could blame him. A demon attempted-suffocation from the spirit plane was likely to take a lot out of a person.

Kagome hid her face behind her cup, taking a sip before asking. "Just once more, please. You only said it the last time we spoke. Those words could have been the result of oxygen starvation, or whatever they call it."

The corners of his mouth lifted in a hint of a smile as he reached out, slipping his fingers over hers and moving her hand to set the mug back down. He tugged gently, pressing her palm over his heart.

She couldn't help a shiver, the feel of his heartbeat beneath her hand, of the warmth of his skin against hers through his robe making her aware of how very alone they were.

"Everything that happened was a lot to take in," he said, his voice soft, recalling the monotone he usually employed when lecturing a class. "But none of it changed my feelings."

Kagome grinned, shifting closer to him. "You know that's not what I was asking you to say."

"Higurashi Kagome, I am still in love with you."

How easily he said the words, how utterly without the slightest hint of hesitation made her breath catch in her throat. "I'm sorry," she said sniffling as she dropped her head. "That makes me really, really happy. Like you have no idea how happy."

Sesshomaru cupped his free hand beneath her chin and lifted her face, meeting her gaze. "Then why are you crying?"

Again, she sniffled, closing her eyes so the tears wouldn't break free. "Because we both know how this has to go. This moment is . . . so great, but it can't last. The next time I walk out your door—"

He pressed a finger to her lips. "I know. And I've made a decision. I'm going to transfer to another university."

Kagome swatted his hand away. "What? No! You can't do that because of me."

"I'm doing it for you. For _us_. If I stay, eventually someone is going to notice something between us." He shook his head, reaching up to push her hair behind her ear. "I will not be the cause of your career being ruined before it even starts. It is easier for me to transfer than for you, so that's the only option I see."

He was right, she realized numbly. She was simply being selfish. She didn't want to think of not seeing him in class every day, didn't want to consider not speaking to him for who only knew how long.

"I understand," she admitted, her voice sad as she held his gaze. Even now, even after everything they'd been through, and how many different sides of him she'd seen, she was still caught off-guard by how handsome he was.

His amber eyes narrowed quizzically as he asked, "What is it?"

Kagome shook her head again, clearing her throat. "Nothing, I'm just . . . okay. So you transfer, and then what?"

Sighing, he shrugged lightly. "The transfer is the simple part. You focus on your studies, I on my career. And when you are officially Dr. Higurashi, when the academic world views us as equals . . . we see what happens, then."

She pulled her hands from him, wrapping her arms around herself. "So that's it? We just wait a few years and hope things work out?"

Sesshomaru forced a gulp, nodding. "I know it sounds terrible, but this is the only way. Secrets always come out and a relationship between us, now, could _ruin_ your future."

Propping her elbows on her knees, she buried her face in her hands and groaned. "I know," she said in a miserable murmur. "You're right. I don't see any other way, either. But I just . . ." she looked up at him.

Following a sudden impulse, she lurched forward, slipping her arms around his waist and resting her cheek against the hollow of his shoulder. "I need to know that if this works, I finish my education, I'm standing on my own two feet . . . I need to know I won't go looking for you only to find that you're . . . married. I think that would kill me."

His arms closed around her, holding her firmly, but gently. "I know that if I ever get married again, it will be because I've found someone I cannot imagine my life without. And there is only one person I've ever met who fits that description."

Kagome sat up, wiping the back of her hand against her cheeks as she watched his expression. "You can't imagine your life without me?"

He shook his head as he smoothed the wetness from her cheeks with gentle fingertips.

"Okay, then," she said, nodding and forcing herself to breath. "I guess that's it for us—for _now_, then. Right?"

His eyebrows inched upward. "Well . . . as you said, we do have until you walk out my front door."

Something in the way he was looking at her, in the way his voice sounded as he said that made her pulse quicken, and she could feel warmth flood her face. "Oh, you mean . . . ."

"I refuse to let that demon's touch be the most potent memory you have of me."

Acting on impulse again, Kagome stood, clasping one of his hands between both of hers and tugging him to stand. She backpedaled in the direction of his bedroom, pulling Sesshomaru behind her.

He undressed her slowly, and lifted her to lay her upon the bed. Everywhere the demon had ever touched her, he kissed—brushing his lips, swirling his tongue, grazing his teeth so that she laughed breathlessly and gasped, writing beneath his mouth.

Sesshomaru left his hands in hers, letting her guide his fingers wherever she wanted them. She shuddered and moaned, panting his name as her hips rocked beneath his ministrations, as she brought his hands up to cup her breasts.

He rose above her and she shook her head, biting her lip and grinning with deceptive innocence as she got up on her knees, patting the spot on the bed where she'd been laying.

She wasted no time, straddling him the moment he was on his back. Staring down into those _amber_ eyes, seeing his unmarked skin, made the moment somehow more perfect. He was _himself_ now, and he was all hers.

Positioning herself over him carefully, she moved her body delicately as she slid his length inside her. He was tense, watching he pained face worriedly for a moment.

He opened his mouth to ask if she was all right—to offer to stop, if she needed—but she reached up, covering his lips with her fingers.

"I'm okay," she said in a soft voice, smiling as she started rocking over him. She flinched a little, before leading his hands to clasp her hips. "But you can help."

"Oh," he said, a small grin lifting his lips as he guided her motions against him, thrusting upward into her gently at first. Until he was sure she was ready for harder strokes.

He didn't let her sleep until he'd brought her to orgasm so many times, he was positive he'd _never _forget the sound of Higurashi Kagome's voice screaming his name in ecstasy.

* * *

He awoke, refusing to look toward the other side of the bed. Sesshomaru could tell before he'd even opened his eyes that she was already gone.

Forcing a sigh, he pressed the heels of his palms against his eyes, simply laying there for a long, quiet moment. He still believed everything he'd said, that his decision to leave the school was for the best.

But he'd not been prepared for the reality of not seeing her again.

Dropping his arms, he shook his head and pulled himself finally to sit up. As he threw back the blanket, the sound of paper rustling caught his attention.

Turning his head, he saw a note on the pillow. With a smirk he reached out, snatching up the page and unfolding it.

_T.S.—_

_No matter how many years pass between last night and the next time we meet, I will still be in love with you._

_ —H.K._

A smile spread across his lips, seemingly of its own volition. "I'm going to hold you to this," he whispered.

* * *

"No, mom, I told you, I don't want you to fix me up with anyone," Kagome shrilled into her cell as her cab from the airport pulled around the corner of her block.

Every time she returned from a dig, her mother battered her with another attempt to introduce her to some _wonderful_ young man or another.

Though none were quite as amusing the one immediately following receiving her doctorate, when she'd had to assure the woman she wasn't a lesbian.

"Are you sure, sweetheart?" Her mother sounded so sad all the time. Why couldn't she just focus on Souta? "I just . . . you're a grown woman, and I get that, I just think you're focusing too much on your career."

Kagome sighed, fidgeting with the last postcard Sesshomaru had sent her. Since walking away from him, this was the only way they'd communicated. Every few months, nothing more than a few lines to inquire about how the other was doing, to let her know he was safe, and vice-verse—addressed to initials, signed with initials.

This last one, he hadn't asked how she was. Hadn't assured her he had come home from his last excavation in one piece. He only asked if she still meant what she said in her note.

And she'd only replied back with a single word. _Yes._

She hadn't heard from him since, leaving her to obsess over this last correspondence from him—over whether or not he'd even gotten her answer.

"Kagome, are you still there?"

"Hmm? Yeah, mom, I'm sorry, we just pulled up to the house. I'll call you tomorrow, okay?"

As the cab rolled to a stop, Miroku bounded down the steps to help the driver with all of _Dr._ Higurashi's luggage.

She climbed out of the back and gave a long stretch. Waiting until everything was in the house, she paid the driver and then spun to face the door as she refolded the postcard and stuffed it into her back pocket. Miroku and Sango stood in the entryway.

And Sango held out a fresh cup of coffee to her.

Kagome cracked a grin, dragging her feet up the porch and accepting the offering of sweetened caffeine. "Ah, thank you so much for house-sitting. Ya know, again."

Miroku smiled brightly, his arm slung around his wife's shoulders. "Well, you've got the big TV and the coffee maker of the gods, so it's not really a chore."

Sango elbowed him lightly in the ribs—he had the good grace to pretend it hurt. "He means you're welcome. We're going to go."

"Oh, no. C'mon guys," Kagome pleaded as she entered the house and rounded on them. "Please, stay for dinner."

"Sorry, sweetie, we have plans tonight." Sango rushed on before Kagome could show her disappointment. "Oh, something arrived for you. I put it upstairs, I hope that's okay."

Kagome's brow furrowed, but she only nodded. She was too relieved to be back home after a long, turbulence-ridden flight.

Once the door was closed behind them, she turned on heel and trudged up the stairs to her bedroom. She didn't want to do anything but sleep for a week, straight.

She paused, her hand gripping the doorknob. Why the hell would Sango put a delivery up here?

Opening the door cautiously, she poked her head into the room. And screamed.

Sesshomaru rose from where he'd been perched at the edge of the bed to stand, folding his arms across his chest. "I can't say that's the reaction I was expecting."

She pushed the door open and took a few steps closer. Her disbelieving eyes watered. "I'm going to _kill_ Sango."

"Again with the crying," he said, feigning mild exasperation.

Kagome laughed, sniffling.

"As I recall," he reached back, pulling a folded, tattered piece of paper from his pocket, "You cried the night before you wrote this, too."

The tip of her nose stung as she watched him unfold the note. As she read the words she'd written to him in those early morning hours as she'd watched him sleeping.

As she'd left his house that morning, she'd been crying so hard she could barely walk upright. It felt like she'd left a piece of her heart on that page.

And he'd brought it back to her.

Letting her tears fall free, she inched closer to him, pulling his last postcard from her own pocket and holding it up. "I've meant those words every day since I left," she whispered, her voice thick.

"I know," he said softly, closing the distance between them and pulling her into his arms.

Kagome didn't cry in that moment. Instead, she breathed deeply, slipping her arms around his waist to cling to him. "Promise me I won't ever have to leave you again."

"_Never _again, Kagome," he pressed a kiss to the top of her head. "I promise."

* * *

A shattering sound startled Myoga. Frowning curiously, he grabbed his cane and pulled himself to stand. The old man hobbled about the apartment, searching out the sound.

He stopped short as he reached the window through which the sunlight always streamed, so perfect and uninterrupted. The Demon Jar—which had sat undisturbed for years since Kagome banished him from Sesshomaru's body—was broken.

The grains of black and red sand that had never lightened, or changed in even the faintest degree, spilled out. A few sullied crystals might've fallen out the window.

Muttering to himself, the old man scurried to create a new container for the demon's essence. He would_ not _tell Kagome and Sesshomaru.

Not unless he found reason to believe that infringing on their lives was an absolute necessity.


	42. Epilogue: Six Years in a Blink

**Epilogue**

Six Years In a Blink

"Midoriko! Lunch is ready," Kagome called . . . only for the declaration to be met with silence.

She groaned, her head falling back as she stepped from the kitchen. "Excuse me, Dr. Taisho?"

Sesshomaru didn't lift his gaze from the newspaper before him. "Dr. Higurashi, whatever you're yelling about, I didn't do it."

Laughing, Kagome shook her head, strolling over to run her fingers through the long, silky locks of his silver hair. "I was only going to ask you where _your_ daughter disappeared to."

He finally looked up, catching her hand in his and pulling her fingers to his mouth, kissing the tips. "Why is she always _my _child when you imagine she's causing trouble somewhere?"

Leaning down to brush her lips over his, she said, "That's simply how it is. I have to get ready for Sango's baby shower this afternoon. I don't have time for one of her mastermind-edition games of hide and seek. Where's Midoriko?"

"I believe she's in the backyard, proving that she's _our _child."

Once more, Kagome groaned, hanging her head. "She's excavating the garden, again, isn't she?"

Holding in a chuckle, Sesshomaru returned to his paper. "More than likely, yes."

Sighing, Kagome turned, heading for the backdoor.

* * *

"And so then, mommy said I can't put the digging tools back until after I clean them off," the little girl said, pouting as she scooped another bit of pale stone from the hole she'd dug.

"That sounds reasonable."

Midoriko shrugged, holding the stone up in the sunlight to examine it. "They brought me on a dig once . . . but I didn't get to do anything."

"How unfortunate. You do seem quite intelligent for your age."

She nodded, beaming at the praise. "I know! I was skipped ahead two whole grades in school! Mommy says I should be humble, I'm not sure what that means. But," she paused, leaning closer to whisper. "Daddy says that I should be proud, so who cares who knows I'm smarter than them?"

"Humble means one does not brag about their abilities."

"Oh," she shrugged, still smiling. She looked so much like her mother, her long black hair tied back from her innocent, wide-eyed face, yet those wide eyes were the same amber hue as her father's. "Then maybe mommy is right."

"Your mother and father sound interesting."

She bounced to her feet, holding out her hand. "Why don't you come meet them?"

"Midoriko!"

The girl turned her head to see her mother on the porch. The woman folded her arms under her breasts, tapping her foot. She almost looked like daddy, with the way one eyebrow arched up her forehead.

"Yes, mommy?" Midoriko said, her voice sweet.

Kagome sighed. Their daughter was a handful now, she didn't want to think what this child was going to put them through as a teenager. Suddenly Souta's youth seemed downright angelic.

"It's time for lunch. Come get cleaned up."

"Okay, just a second."

Smiling, her mother nodded and retreated back into the house.

Alone, again, she turned back to her friend."Do you want to meet them?," she repeated. "They're really nice!"

"I am certain they are. I met them before."

Her brow furrowed as she watched him kneel down before her, clasping one of her hands between both of his. She always found his clawed fingers funny—but with those, and his sharp, pointy teeth, she always thought he was probably some sort of cat-person.

"You have?"

"Yes," he nodded, smiling serenely. "And I would love to be reunited with them. But it's too soon."

"Oh," she said, disappointment lacing her tone, "Okay."

"Keep speaking to me, but do not tell them. When I meet them again, I want surprise them."

Once more, her expression brightened. "Okay!"

"I need your promise that you will keep speaking to me."

"Of course I will, you're my friend!" She slipped her hand from his and waved. "See you later!"

He waved back, smiling, still. His crimson eyes crinkling at the corners. "See you, little priestess."

**THE END**

**(Thank you all for reading, and for all the love and support this story has received over the years. I love you, all :) )**

* * *

**Readers, please note:**** This is a Stand Alone story, there is no planned sequel. The open-ended conclusion was intentional, as part of this story I wrote in the feel of Asian supernatural horror films, and as such, a similar type of ending felt appropriate.**

**I am in the process of revising the story to make it into an entirely original work and (potentially) publish it as a novel (don't panic, I'm a big-time procrastinator, so said revision may take a while). I will note on my site profile when I will be pulling the fanfiction version down from public view. The title will be altered, as I found during the course of writing this that there are about 3 novels already out there bearing the title **_**Stealing Heaven**_**, and so as much I adore the title, I must part with it. I'm thinking something along the same lines, like **_**Broken Heaven,**_** or **_**Unleashing Heaven**_**, maybe, but I will do my best to keep everyone posted.**

**Again, thank you for reading. *heart***


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